


Promise

by Lexifer



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Children, Chibi, Drabble Collection, Fluff and Angst, Foot Raphael, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Japan, Training
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2016-09-29
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:09:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 31,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexifer/pseuds/Lexifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles based on an alternate 2k12 universe where Raphael is raised in the Foot Clan alongside Karai. </p><p>Won 1st place for Best AU and Best Chibi in the 2014 StealthyStories competition, and 2nd place for Best Villain (Shredder) in 2015 StealthyStories competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Promise

Karai managed to slip away from the low-ranked Foot soldier charged with babysitting her in a matter of minutes. It was too easy at the crowded docks, and Father had already started teaching her how to be a kunoichi. She was drawn to the enormous, colorful shipping crates and ran down the pebbled aisles between them, arms flung out to either side, pretending to fly like an airplane.

A metallic clank made her stop in her tracks, her heart skipping. She didn't want to go back to the boring warehouse already. She heard sniffles, then the crunch of footsteps retreating in the gravel. She followed the noise as silently as possible before revealing herself dramatically around the corner of a red container. "Hah!"

Nothing could have prepared her for the shocked turtle boy that shrunk back from her. The front part of his shell was yellowish and the rest of him was green, even his eyes. He stood and balled his fists suddenly, glaring at her, his cheeks moist.

"Are you crying?"

"No!" he denied angrily.

A slash marked him down one shoulder. Whatever made the wound had embedded into his shell, taking a jagged sliver with it.

"Who hurt you?" Karai asked.

"Everyone that's seen me," he growled.

He was so small and cute, she couldn't imagine anyone wanting to harm him. "I won't hurt you," she assured him quickly.

"Huh, I'm not scared of you," he quipped, his hands relaxing.

"I am a ninja. I could beat you up if I wanted to."

"Suuure," he drawled, rolling his eyes.

"I'm Karai. I'm almost six years old," she said cheerfully.

The turtle boy looked her over and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I'm Raphael. I'm four."

"That's a funny name," Karai giggled, and Raphael scowled at her. "Do you live here? Where is your family?"

He looked down at the ground forlornly, and his eyes misted up again. "I fell into the water and this hole opened up and I thought I was gonna drown but I got dumped out into the lake. I'm lost. My dad probably thinks I'm dead," he said morbidly.

"How about your mother?" Karai asked.

"I don't have one. I have brothers. I want to go home," he whined, his bottom lip jutting out.

"I don't have a mother _or_ brothers," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself solemnly.

Raphael hadn't meant to make her sad, so he hugged her and apologized like Sensei had taught him to do when he made his brothers cry. She hugged him back and was soft and warm and the first nice thing to happen to him in days.

"Raphael, do you want to be my brother?" she asked hopefully. "I'm always by myself. I could take you home with me on our plane tonight."

Raphael shook his head no. Surely his father would find him soon. _Right?_

"I have to go back now before I get in big trouble," Karai sulked, letting go of him and walking away. She turned once to wave, and Raphael automatically lifted his hand to copy her.

He shivered as her warmth left him. He had passed day after day waiting for Sensei, tired, cold, hungry, hurt, scared and lonely. His lip trembled with indecision as Karai started to disappear down the row. He could have a home. Today.

"Wait!" he called shakily. "Karai, I wanna go."

She stopped and her face lit up in a giant smile. Raphael ran to her, his arms circling her waist as he buried his face in her stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and clung to her, letting the terrors of his time fending for himself melt away. Karai pet his head and took his hand, leading him out into the world of men.

His hand trembled as they walked out into the open. Karai turned and looked down at him, an amber glint in her eye. "I'm your big sister now," she said seriously, "and I promise no one is _ever_ going to hurt you again."


	2. Welcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Takes place directly after the events of _Promise_. Raphael is 4 and Karai is 5.  
>  Words: 575  
> Rating: K

Within seconds Oroku Saki’s protesting daughter was returned to his side. The abomination she had brought with her stood secured by a chain coiled around it’s middle, arms pinned. Two of his soldiers held katanas a few feet from it’s head, awaiting orders. A third held the end the of the chain like a leash and stood directly behind the creature. It looked like something out of the myths of his youth, a large turtle that somehow walked upright.

Karai had been holding it’s hand. He shuddered. “Get rid of it.”

“No!” Karai screamed as one of the katana wielding soldiers took a step forward, raising his weapon. She tried to bolt forward but Saki caught her by the arm.

Her commotion was enough to distract his Foot soldiers and give them pause. He sneered. The orders of the Shredder were not to be second guessed, especially over the rantings of a child.

“I promised we wouldn’t hurt him!” she went on hysterically, turning on him and trying to pry his hand from her arm. “I promised!”

“Silence!” he commanded harshly, giving her a backhanded swat that made her sink to her knees.

“Karai!” it shouted, heaving itself towards them and managing to drag the man holding it’s chain forward a few feet. Startled, it’s would-be executioner took a step back, keeping the katana between them warily.

Shredder raised a hand to signal everyone to stop. It was not just an animal. It could speak, and it had a child’s voice. He closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride until he towered over it. “What are you?”

It glared up at him defiantly with angry green eyes, teeth clenched and still straining against the chains. “I’m a mutant,” it growled.

Shredder’s gaze flicked up to the soldier holding him captive. It was taking a solid effort to keep the freak at bay. What he first thought was a large turtle was actually a very young mutant turtle boy. Even at this size, injured and barely chest height to his daughter, he was strong enough to pull a grown man and unnerve another who was an armed martial artist. What would this thing grow into? Saki considered the potential of what he could mold him into, a truly nightmarish ally.

“Settle yourself,” Saki ordered, the tone of his voice carrying enough weight to still him. The obedience pleased him, as did the seemingly automatic desire to protect Karai. “Release him.” As the chains snaked down to clatter on the pavement, Saki knelt and slid a bladed gauntlet beneath his chin, examining him closely. He was filthy, and the wound on his shoulder looked infected, but otherwise he seemed sound.

Saki pulled up to his full height once again and gestured for his daughter. Karai scampered over excitedly, and the sight of her smiling and undamaged made the anger fade from those green eyes.

“Raphael!” She clung to his hand once more. “Can he come home with us, Father? Please? He’s all alone.”

A frown of distaste hidden behind his mask, Shredder addressed him. “If I take you in, you will live under my rules, under whatever discipline I see fit and train as a soldier of my clan. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Raphael answered. It didn’t seem like anything less than what Splinter had expected from him.

“You will call me Master,” he corrected.

“Yes, Master.”

Saki grinned wickedly to himself. “Welcome to the Foot.”


	3. Brave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Takes place the same day as _Promise_ and _Welcome_  
>  Words: 552  
> Rated: K

"Be brave," Karai told Raphael as they were separated once again. Immediately he was ashamed of how obvious his fear was.

Shaken from his first experience riding in the enclosed space of a car, Raphael willed himself to put one foot in front of the other as he was led into a large building by the very creatures he had always been taught to avoid. He sat stiffly in a warm bathtub as he was scrubbed almost raw from head to toe but did not complain. His heart almost stopped when he was left alone in a room with a man who laid open a case of medical tools and looked upon him with equal measures of fascination and repulsion. Raphael remained silent and cooperative, though his body trembled as he remembered the casual way Donnie had once described what a scientist would likely want to do with them before Splinter scolded him into silence. After minimal poking and prodding, the man only bandaged his shoulder and forced him to swallow a syringe full of foul tasting liquid.

Raphael thought the worst had passed once he was returned to Karai’s side for his second trip in a car. He could do this, he knew what to expect this time and the warmth of her hand had returned to his. He was even able to smile at her enthusiastic chatter and ignore the suspicious stares of the adults accompanying them. He lost his resolve once again when Karai pulled him onto a private runway where their jet awaited them. There was absolutely zero cover, nothing but flat plains and roads all around him in broad daylight. The jet itself was so much larger and noisier than anything Raphael had ever expected.

Employees that had yet to know of their Master’s newest acquisition exclaimed at the sight of him or let their hands rest upon weapons at their belts. Shredder’s spiked shadow fell over the two children and his gaze flowed over his men impassively as he led his wards to the stairway of the plane. No one dared question him, and Raphael felt safe and protected in his wake.

Once aboard, he still squeezed his eyes shut in terror and gripped Karai’s hand like a vice as the roar of the engines kicked up before take-off, rattling through his small body as the jet charged down the runway. When he finally gathered up the courage to look out the window at the vast expanse of fluffy clouds and glittering ocean, his stomach lurched up into his throat. Not in fear this time, but in the realization of how hopelessly far from home he was, of the permanence of his decision. Guilt bit into his young mind. He hadn’t been able to wait any longer for his family, and now he would never see them again.

Karai caught the sadness in his eyes and she stopped talking mid-sentence, crestfallen. “Aren’t you excited?” she asked.

"Yeah," Raphael said, forcing a smile. "Of course." He had no idea what she had been talking about that he was supposed to be excited for and made himself pay attention. She was trying to help him. She was the only person in this new world that cared about him and he couldn’t fail her. _Be brave_ , he told himself.


	4. Smokescreen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Takes place 3-4 weeks after _Brave_. Shredder sits Raphael down for a friendly chat. Raphael is 4 and Karai is 5.  
>  Words: 891  
> Rated: K

Upon their return to the sprawling Japanese estate and headquarters of the Foot Clan, Shredder had presented Raphael to his household and organization without comment or explanation. He took a certain satisfaction in the shock and fear his new pet inspired, as well as the swirl of fantastic rumors over how he had acquired a Kappa Yokai. Even his daughter was being looked upon with a type of reverence for her ability to so completely tame and control the young ‘demon’.

Saki made it clear that the boy was not to be harmed and allowed to do as he wished. This gave him the opportunity to observe how Raphael behaved when left to his own devices. Immediately it was clear that something as simple as walking down a bright hallway caused him distress. He was slow to trust and only spoke in front of four people; Saki, Karai, her nanny and her English tutor. He accompanied Karai everywhere and played to all of her whims. Yumi, the English teacher, reported that someone had taught him the alphabet, how to write his name and how to count to 20. In the dojo he had known to bow at the entrance and to the shrine before following along in Karai’s private instruction. He was certainly a novice, but Saki could see that someone had been laying a foundation for future training and it made him curious.

Shredder waited patiently, sitting comfortably on the floor of his meditation room atop a zabuton. A few feet away his Miko knelt upon her cushion, tying a swath of dried herbs and plants together deftly despite her gnarled hands. Her wrinkled forehead creased even more at the arrival of the nervous turtle, then she lit a cone of incense in a brass bowl set before her. The flames of a few candles were the only light in the room but Saki could see Raphael’s fear and confusion clearly.

Saki gestured to the cushion a few feet away from himself, next to the Miko. “Sit.”

Raphael did as he was told, sitting cross-legged on the zabuton and watching the old woman guardedly.

"You have been among us for a few weeks now," Saki started. "Are you finding everything to your liking?"

"Y-yes, Master," he answered tentatively.

"What is it, Boy? Something troubles you."

Raphael averted his eyes. “I miss my family, Master.”

"Tell me about them."

"I have three brothers just like me, and a Father, Master Splinter. He found us in the sewers when we were babies and took care of us."

Shredder tilted his head slightly. The Miko was humming under her breath, so quietly he couldn’t pinpoint when she had begun. “What is he a master of?”

"Ninjutsu. He was starting to teach us."

Saki’s sharp intake of breath made Raphael flinch, as if he was in trouble for the words he had spoken. “Who did he learn from?” Shredder demanded.

"I-I don’t know, he never told us. He said he used to be a man."

"And now he’s a turtle, like you? Mutated?" Saki asked.

"He’s a rat," Raphael answered, starting to tremble under Shredder’s sharp gaze.

Oroku Saki paused, contemplative, wondering what man this rat might have been. Likely no one of much consequence if he was American. It seemed like fate was at hand here, but Saki believed in creating his own destiny. He nodded to his Miko, who ran the end of her bundle through a candle flame. This creature he had taken in was going to be a very useful tool, but he needed to be certain of it’s loyalty. The old lady swirled the smoking talisman through the incense, brought it up between her and the turtle, and blew the sharp smelling smoke directly into Raphael’s face.

Raphael tried to wheel away but Shredder’s voice commanded him to be still. He coughed and his eyes watered, but he obeyed.

"You will be awarded a great many things if you work hard in the Foot Clan," Saki said smoothly. "A home most people can only dream of, power and rank. All you need to do is let go of them. They abandoned you. They are not your family anymore."

Raphael resisted. “But…” Another wave of smoke was blown into his face and he coughed once more, sucking in great lungfuls of the acrid air.

"They abandoned you," Saki continued. "They didn’t want you, but I do. I can see the potential that they did not." He observed as the young mutant rubbed his eyes and looked at him blearily. All he needed now was reinforcement from within Raphael. "Why did they cast you out?"

The boy blinked heavily, face framed by smoke, and began to weep silently.

"Answer me!"

Raphael sobbed out loud. “I was mean to my brothers,” he confessed in a rush. “I made them cry and I made Splinter mad and they didn’t want me anymore.”

Shredder had to hold back a chuckle. This was perfection. Raphael’s inner fear was the final nail in his coffin. Saki smiled. “Where do you belong, Boy?”

"Here, Master."

"Who is your family?"

"You and Karai, Master," he replied, wiping tears away from his bloodshot eyes.

"What will you give me in return for my generosity?"

"Anything, Master."


	5. Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Raphael’s first snow day in Chiyoda, Japan. Takes place a couple months after _Smokescreen_. Raphael is 4 and Karai is 5.  
>  Words: 800  
> Rated: K

“Raphael!” Karai cried happily. She jumped onto his bed, disrupting his comfort with a jolting bounce.

“Go away,” he grumbled crankily, trying to push her off the mattress with his foot. Why did she always have to wake him up so early?

“Come on, get up! It snowed!” she said breathlessly.

“So what?” he demanded.

Karai braced herself but stilled, Raph’s foot still pressed against her shoulder. “So what?!” she echoed incredulously. “There’s tons of it everywhere, I’ve never seen so much snow!”

Karai jumped down and Raphael hid his head under the blanket as her footfalls thudded away. _Ugh, snow_. Why would anyone be excited about snow? All it did was conjure memories of miserably frigid nights passed under patched up quilts. Splinter would curl around them to keep them huddled together and as warm as possible.

By the time his dresser drawer had been ransacked and Karai’s feet padded back over to his bed, Raphael was in a sour mood. The memories of his old life were too painful to bear, and quickly he tried to bury them deep within his mind.

“Put this on, let’s go play!” she shouted directly into the blanket.

Raphael burst out of his covers and tackled her with a growl. She let out a high pitched peel of laughter and planted a foot on his plastron, pushed up, and tipped him over her and onto the floor. Raph yanked her arm as he went down and they both hit hardwood in a tangle of blankets and limbs.

“You’re dead meat!” Raphael yelled, but there was an edge of laughter to his voice and a grin on his face. They struggled to free themselves from the snarl of linen while shoving each other back down simultaneously.

“You’re so grumpy in the morning,” Karai squawked, escaping from the blanket prison first. She grabbed a thick, red woolen cloak and tossed it at him. “Put this on,” she repeated, then ran out into the hall. “Uba, he’s up now,” she hollered as she went back to her own room.

Raphael scowled and tugged the garment on over his head as their nanny called out, “Raphael-san?” He stomped into the hall with the most ornery expression he could muster.

“Mornin’ Takara,” he mumbled. Raph preferred to call her by her name instead of Uba like Karai did. The idea of having a nanny at all made him feel babyish.

Takara planted a hand on her hips and gave him a stern glare. At just under five feet tall and well into her 50’s, somehow she managed an imposing enough presence to make him straighten his posture and feel guilty. “Proper greeting,” she said with a heavy accent.

“Ohayō gozaimasu, Takara-san,” he amended with a slight bow.

She smiled and returned the gesture, then clucked her tongue as Karai burst out of her room with her jacket on and boots in hand. The children trailed Takara as she led them to the courtyard to play. Karai took Raphael’s hand and he stuck his tongue out at her, but didn’t pull away. Once outside he sighed. “ _This_ is a lot of snow?”

“Yes!”

Raphael was underwhelmed. There was maybe an inch of snowfall from the night before covering the courtyard. “This is nothing. In New York it would be over our heads.”

Karai was too excited to let Raphael bring her down and ran through it excitedly, kicking white power up as Raph rolled his eyes next to Takara. Then Karai lobbed a small, icy cold snowball right into his face, laughed, and ducked behind one of the few skeletal trees. It was on. Raphael picked up two fist fulls of snow and was packing it into a little ball even as he sprinted to her tree. She was ready for him and got in another shot to the crook of his neck before he could retaliate with his own frozen ammo. Raphael chased her, running between trees and laughing as snow flew in all directions between them. By the time he caught her and their wrestling had lapsed into them just mashing snow into each other, Takara called them in with the lure of a hot breakfeast.

This time Raphael ran to her with Karai, all smiles, shedding puffs of glistening flakes with every movement. Takara put her hand on Raphael’s head for a moment affectionately and turned to say something to Karai in Japanese.

Karai giggled and Raphael looked between them suspiciously. Karai translated. “She says the cloak she made for you looks adorable, and that red is your color.”


	6. Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael struggles with the fine print. Takes place a few months after _Snow_. Raphael is 5 and Karai is 6.  
>  Word count: 681  
> Rated: K

_Crack!_

The more frustrated Raphael got, the tighter his hold became on his pencil, which snapped like a twig in his hands. With only three thick digits, it was difficult for him to hold the writing utensil properly to make the neat and precise marks needed for kanji. This latest casualty earned him a sympathetic glance from their language tutor and he felt his irritation rise even more so.

"Raphael-san," Yumi said in a sweet, lilting voice, "we can continue tomorrow. Our lesson is nearly over."

"No, I want to finish it," Raphael said stubbornly through clenched teeth, glaring at the last few words he was supposed to replicate.

Karai wordlessly handed him a pencil from her case as she completed a few simple sentences in English next to him.

In truth, it was about the last thing Raphael wanted to do, but he was determined. Holding the pencil gingerly, he continued.

Master Shredder had told him in no uncertain terms that he needed to learn how to read and write fluently in both English and Japanese. He had demanded very little of Raphael so far, and Yumi, Karai’s English teacher, had been very eager to help him along in both languages. The young mutant was loathe to disappoint either of them. He couldn’t bear the possibility of failing Shredder and being cast away by a second Master, rejected by a second family.

As for Yumi, he knew that she would never be so harsh. His drive to please her came from warmth, not fear.

Months ago, when Raphael had still been new to this place, the humans had frightened him. Splinter had always taught him to be cautious and keep away from people. He didn’t know any Japanese and couldn’t understand what anyone said, though that had likely been a blessing. A week of watching the reactions of the staff and Foot members actually setting eyes on him for the first time, discovering for themselves that his existence was not just a rumor, had left him feeling dejected. Even Takara, their nanny, had struggled not to stare at him for the first few days.

He had been reluctant to let Karai introduce him to Yumi, but she always got her way and had dragged him into the study for her English lesson. Raphael had been surprised to find that Yumi was a very young woman, tall and slender with short black hair that framed her delicate, doll-like face. She had taken one look at him and trilled, _“Baby Kappa!"_ Besides Karai, Yumi was the only human to ever be genuinely delighted to meet him, and despite her calling him a baby, Raphael couldn’t help but adore her immediately.

Concentrating, he finished the last few strokes of the kanji for ‘home’, then recited all of the words he had written to Yumi in Japanese. “Well done,” she praised with a smile.

They both turned their attention on Karai as she finished the small paragraph she had written, Yumi checking her lettering and Raphael watching her hand. Karai’s tiny, delicate-looking fingers manipulated the pencil easily; it seemed to float across her page with confident grace. He could practice forever and never match her effortless dexterity.

Raphael made a fist, unnoticed as Karai read her work aloud to Yumi. They had training next and he hoped Sensei would wrap his knuckles again and set him loose on the new punching bag. His fists were already the size of a mans and had destroyed their first training dummy. Intuitively he was sure that his hands would only ever excel at wreaking havoc.

Yet as they were dismissed and burst from their seats in a flurry of pent-up energy to head to the dojo, Karai’s porcelain digits wrapped tightly around one of his own. Always she held his hand whenever they flitted from one place to the next, as if afraid to lose him. As if he wouldn’t willingly follow her anywhere.


	7. Sensei

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The inner musings of Raph and Karai’s sensei. Takes place immediately after Hands. Raphael is 5 and Karai is 6.  
> Word Count: 692  
> Rated: K

Ryota-Sensei awaited the strange pair in the dojo, pinning them to the spot with a harsh glare after they breezed in with silly smiles and rushed bows. They stood still and exaggeratedly straight, Karai abruptly dropping Raphael’s hand when his eyes narrowed at them further. There was no hand-holding in the dojo, literally or figuratively. He made them leave and re-enter properly before acknowledging them as pupils.

The dojos of the Saki estate were well-known as the top martial arts training center in Tokyo, attracting students from all over Japan and even abroad. The facility also served as a legitimate business front and offered a wealth of talented fighters for consideration. Only the very best students were courted for entry into the Foot Clan to specialize in the style of ninjitsu that had been passed down through the shinobi lineage of the Foot for generations. Clan members used one of the three private dojos in the main buildings, which also housed Saki’s private residence and the secretive hub of Foot activity, all off-limits to the public.

Ryota was one of Saki’s most trusted soldiers and the head instructor for new Foot Initiates. In his late thirties and part of an influential political family, he understood the importance of appearances and manipulation. He turned crops of hopefuls into obedient weapons so gradually and masterfully that his students didn’t even realize how he stripped away the mundane, leaving their lives consumed by the way of shadows. Finding themselves eventually alienated from civilian life, Shredder employed them as thieves, spies, assassins and soldiers for his underground crime empire. Those ambitious enough furthered their training and their rank.

As the daughter and ward of the Shredder, Karai and Raphael received world-class tutelage. They were on a rigid routine, and always came to Ryota for training directly after their private tutoring, brimming with pent up energy after having to sit still for hours. When they re-entered the dojo respectfully, he ran them through a challenging warmup so they would be able to focus on forms and kata exercises, then he had them spar. Though their growing co-dependence made him a bit uncomfortable, he had to admit that Raphael made the perfect sparring partner for Karai and had helped her progress by leaps and bounds in the last year. He was about her size but stronger; she was faster and knew more techniques. She pushed Raphael hard when they fought, forcing him to think quickly to defend. In return Raphael didn’t hold back, giving Karai her first real challenge as they practiced the strikes, holds and blocks they had learned.

Oroku Saki himself personally took over their lessons at least twice a month, as time allowed. He wanted to test them, to make sure that they were progressing as planned along their fast-tracked regiment. Shredder intended to initiate them into the Foot Clan at twelve years old, the youngest a member could be accepted. Not only that, but he fully expected them to be at the top of their class among other Initiates of all ages. The potential was there, and Ryota would be handsomely rewarded for bringing it out in them.

In Karai he saw a future kunoichi, sly, swift and deadly; an honor to her family name.

As for Raphael, Ryota’s first impression had been revulsion followed by carefully hidden skepticism that a mutant turtle could be quick or flexible enough for ninjitsu. How wrong he had been. Raphael learned quickly, lived and breathed for training and was deceptively powerful for his size.

Ryota smiled to himself as he watched Raphael rail on a punching bag. He had dismissed them and Karai had been eager to leave and bathe, but Raphael begged him in broken Japanese to wrap his hands and let him stay a while longer. Ryota’s grin deepened as the 100lb bag meant for adults started to rock gently under Raphael’s barrage. They were going to make a monster out of him.


	8. Mother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael has a hard time dealing with emotions, especially when they belong to someone else. Set a few months after _Sensei_. Raphael is 5 and Karai is 6.  
>  Word count: 1,081  
> Rating: K

Raphael awoke feeling strangely rested, peering suspiciously at the position of the sun in his window and the long shadows it cast in his room. It was Sunday, which meant no tutoring or training. He yawned and stretched leisurely, hoping he hadn’t missed breakfast. Karai had actually let him sleep in for once. _I could get used to this_ , he thought to himself, rubbing the crust from the corners of his eyes.

He finally got out of bed, eager to get outside into the balmy summer morning. The weather in Chiyoda was wonderful as far as he was concerned, despite all of the rain. It was warm most of the year and the coldest winter days here would merely be jacket weather for the hardened New Yorker. The Saki estate included acres of groomed gardens and park-like areas, as well as a huge tract of forest that bordered a national park. This afforded a great deal of privacy and Raphael was free to explore all of it as long as he didn’t wander too close to the public buildings that skirted the opposite side of the property.

He ambled down the hall, intent on heading to the kitchen to find Karai and see what Takara had whipped up for them. A loud sniffle from Karai’s bedroom made him stop mid-step. Discomfort fluttered up into his chest from his belly, putting him on edge. She was crying in her room. Raphael fidgeted on the spot for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. Karai had never cried around him before, not even that one time she had almost broken her elbow falling out of a tree.

Just as he had decided she must want to be alone and moved to continue on his way, she let out a loud sob followed by several more muffled ones. The noise sent a little jolt to his heart and he couldn’t just walk away. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Raphael slid aside the door to her room and stepped inside, closing it behind him.

Karai was sitting in bed and hugging her pillow, face buried in the white cushion. On the mattress beside her was a photograph he had seen many times. Karai kept it in her nightstand, an old, torn photo of her as a baby being held by her mother. She didn’t acknowledge Raphael until he had cautiously settled in next to her. She turned her head so her cheek rested on the pillow and she could look at him, her normally vibrant eyes dark and watery.

Raph didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just waited, feeling tense. Slowly she calmed, working herself up to talking.

“Father is leaving again,” she sighed, “but at least he told me himself this time.”

Saki’s business trips were not unusual and didn’t tend to warrant more than some moping in Raphael’s experience. He let his eyes wander to the small hands that clutched her pillow tightly; unable to meet her openly pained expression.

“I just…” she started, then stopped. She took a long breath and tried again. “I just want to know her. Every time I ask, all he tells me about is how she died, and sometimes that she loved me and would be proud of me, but why can’t he tell me about how she _lived_?” Karai demanded angrily, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “I want to know what her favorite flower was, if she liked to cook, what songs she used to sing to me….just….anything,” she finished miserably.

Raphael had heard the story of Tang Shen’s death, how Saki had avenged his wife by wiping out her murderer’s entire clan. “At least you have a picture,” Raphael offered weakly, feeling out of his depth. He couldn’t understand how knowing such details about Shen would make Karai feel any better about being motherless.

Her brows knit together and she seemed almost ashamed, her lips forming an exaggerated O even as the sound escaped them. “Oh, Raphael, I’m sorry.”

Raphael would never know his mother and she would never know him, even if they happened to meet by chance. Karai tossed aside her cushion and reclaimed the photo from her bed, opening her drawer to put it away.

“Don’t,” Raph said, catching her arm. “I’m fine.” He couldn’t handle it if she put away the only picture that soothed her because of him.

Karai brought her legs up over Raphael’s lap with a sigh, leaning her knees into his plastron and her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her back as she rested the hand holding her photo on one of her knees and contemplated it, still sniffling. She needed the comfort of a warm, soft embrace, not the cool press of his shell. Raphael felt terribly inadequate, sure she would voice her discomfort soon and abandon him for her cushion once more.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Karai whispered, her eyes welling up.

Raphael blinked in surprise. “Really?”

“Of course, stupid,” she scoffed, shouldering him gently. “You promise not to leave?”

“Of course I promise, stupid,” he mimicked teasingly, but her face remained serious, her bottom lip trembling. Desperately Raphael surveyed the room for a distraction, anything to keep her from weeping again. His gaze fell upon the sepia face of Tang Shen, her expression so familiar to him. “You look just like her when you smile,” he said without thinking.

She went rigid for a few seconds, just long enough for him to start berating himself for his big mouth.

“I do?” Karai asked, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“Yeah,” he answered honestly.

The corners of her mouth twitched up into a tentative grin, her face still damp and puffy, then laughed when Raphael’s stomach growled loudly between them. “Let’s go see what’s for breakfast,” she suggested.

Relieved, he watched Karai get up, wipe her tears away, and try to smooth herself over before heading to Takara’s kitchen domain. If it meant that he didn’t have to see her cry again, Raphael would happily never sleep in another morning.


	9. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by a suggestion from koalagriton. Karai leads Raphael astray looking for a bit of fun. Raphael is 6 and Karai is 7.  
> Rated: K+  
> Word count: 1,040

Karai raised and hand and gave Raphael the signal to move forward, sending him darting silently down the dark corridor to join her behind a tall vase. Clad from head to toe in black, she slunk across the floor to the dojo entrance. Raphael mimicked her movements and followed closely, both of them slipping through the doorway.

A chill of excitement went down Raphael's shell as Karai slid the door shut behind them. Of the three private dojos used exclusively by the Foot, this was the only one that was off-limits to them. It was also the largest and housed the vast majority of the clan's training weapons. The entire far wall was windowed, letting in just enough ambient light that even Karai could see and move about with ease, while floor to ceiling mirrors covered most of the wall directly behind them.

Karai smiled devilishly at Raphael, looking quite pleased with herself. She had been planning this late-night excursion all week, and Raph had to admit there was a thrilling rush to having gotten away with sneaking in. Instantly they gravitated to the right side of the room where weapons of every variety gleamed in the moonlight on their stands and displays.

“Look at all the katanas,” Karai breathed excitedly, running her hand over the black, polished rack of swords. Pulling one from it's sheath, she tested it's weight experimentally in her small hands. “How do I look?” she asked, taking a few swipes at an imaginary foe.

“Like a real ninja!” Raphael answered enthusiastically.

Karai preened and danced around, fancying herself in the mirror.

Raphael picked up a sai, keeping the longest point down his forearm and thrusting the weighted end into the air in a sweeping uppercut. Then he spun around to face Karai, extending the pronged points in her direction.

Rolling her eyes, Karai clanged her blade against Raphael's playfully. “Sai suck.”

“ _You suck_ ,” he snapped back.

She scoffed and twirled away, replacing the katana on the rack. She hummed thoughtfully before selecting a bo staff and promptly tripping herself with it. Raphael laughed, trading in his sai for a kusarigama hanging on the wall. Holding the handle of the kama portion in one hand, he spun the heavy iron fundo at the end of the chain above his head so quickly it became a blur. Meanwhile, the bo staff towered over a giggling Karai, teetering precariously as she tried to put it back.

Raphael bit his lower lip, not sure how to stop the momentum the weight had built up without hitting himself. He decided to cast it out into the center of the empty room to save face, literally and figuratively, letting it clatter across the floor. Karai jostled him by the shell roughly and shushed him.

“Sorry!” he whispered loudly, pulling the chain in.

Her attention had already wandered off to a longbow taller than she was. She plucked at the string curiously. “I wonder where the arrows are,” she mumbled, looking about in the dark.

They both jumped when light suddenly filled the room, their hearts stuttering in their chests. They froze, too terrified to move a muscle. Oroku Saki stepped into the dojo, instantly making the large space feel claustrophobic with the magnitude of his presence. He looked no less threatening in his casual gray kimono than he would have in full Shredder gear.

“Both of you,” he said in his baritone voice, pointing to the spot directly in front of him. “Now.”

Though Saki never randomly struck them outside of training, corporal punishment was the norm on the rare occasions that they directly disobeyed him. Raphael turned to put the kusarigama away, trying to keep his body from quaking.

“No. Bring it to me,” Saki ordered calmly, his voice as smooth as silk.

Raphael and Karai exchanged startled glances and willed their feet to move in his direction. Raph clutched the handle and chain, the weapon seeming to take on a gravity all it's own. He carried it leadenly, offering it up to his Master before sinking to his knees beside Karai.

“You both know that this room is forbidden to you,” Saki said. He went silent for a moment, the soft clink of chain slithering through his hands the only sound as he contemplated them. “I am very disappointed,” he finally continued. “I've taught you that these are tools created only to maim or kill an enemy; that they are not toys to be handled by children. It would seem that you require a demonstration.”

Karai's breath hitched and her hands tightened into white fists in her lap.

Raphael felt a lump form in his throat and panic crept through his belly at the certainty that Saki meant to mark them. To leave them with a lasting reminder of the cost for defying him so blatantly. The sickle shifted in his grip.

“It was my idea,” Raphael blurted out, forcing himself to meet the man's scarred, glowering face.

“Is that so?” he asked with a sneer.

Raphael took a deep breath. There was nothing that could be done to him that would be worse than watching Karai receive even the smallest nick from that curved blade. “Yes. She's only here to bring me back.”

“Very well,” Saki rumbled, looking between them. “Karai, leave us.”

She jerked at the sound of her name and stood, trying to find her voice. “Raph...” she managed to squeak out.

“What?” Raphael demanded in an angry voice, giving her hip a shove. “You were the one that wanted to leave, so just _go_ already!”

Karai's eyes widened in surprise as she caught her balance. Her father's impatient glare dared her to challenge him any further and she fled the dojo, cheeks burning with shame.

Raphael stumbled back to his room soon after her exit, alone in the dark, the left side of his jaw sore and still swelling. He absently traced a fingertip over the tender criss-crossed fissures on his chest, scored into his plastron forever in mere seconds. Karai rushed him when he opened his bedroom door, dried tears on her face and a thousand apologies on her lips.


	10. Intuition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day in the life of a Foot Clan nanny. Takes place the morning after _Scars_. Raphael is 6 and Karai is 7.  
>  Rated: K  
> Word count: 1,211

Takara added wakame and tofu to the broth heating on the stove, stirring it distractedly. Usually cooking was a pleasant and relaxing task, especially in a kitchen as large and beautiful as this one, but she'd felt a slight unease since the moment she had crossed the threshold into the estate this morning. It didn't help matters when she peripherally caught sight of a man standing in the kitchen with her, either.

She started, almost dropping the piece of fish she was tending through the grill. Even after all these years she wasn't used to it. He was clad in the basic black garb of the Foot with red flame insignias on either shoulder. "Good morning," she said, inclining her head politely.

He returned the greeting but waited to speak further until she was able to turn away from the stove. "I am Soshi. Apologies for disrupting your breakfast, but I have a message for you."

"Yes?" she asked, trying to hide her concern.

"Not to alarm you, but the Yakuza have been getting more hostile towards the Foot's presence. The incidents have mostly been within Tokyo Metropolis," he informed her as casually as he one might remark on the weather. "As a precaution, Master Oroku has requested that Karai no longer accompany you to the market until further notice, and that she is not to be out of your immediate sight while playing on the grounds."

"Of course," Takara answered, her voice calm despite the cold sliver in her chest.

Soshi handed her a small piece of paper with his cell phone number scrawled across it. "If you are required to leave for a time, please call me and I will be happy to assist you."

It was an order, not a friendly offer, but she wasn't going to refuse protection. She tucked his number into her apron and smiled graciously. "Thank you, Soshi-san, I will be sure to do that."

He smiled back, eyes sweeping the kitchen quickly. "I trained under your husband for a time. He was a great swordsman."

"Yes, he was," she agreed wistfully.

"And between us," Soshi added, his voice dropping lower, "I wouldn't seek out Master Oroku today unless it's an emergency."

Takara nodded in understanding and the young shinobi took his leave of her as silently as he had appeared.

She worried at her lip as she finished preparing breakfast for her charges, setting their places at the table and wondering briefly if her own daughters might be at risk. She knew very little of the illicit business of the clan, and if an enemy tried to use her as leverage she was sure that Saki would cut his losses. Really, _she_ was barely worth the trouble of watching over. Her daughters should be safe.

Not for the first time, she wondered how she had gotten into such a position. Reminding herself that she was lucky to have it, even at the cost of turning a blind eye to some questionable happenings, she tried to push it from her mind. There were not many other ways for an older widow to sustain even a humble apartment in Tokyo and support two grown children though university.

When Karai and Raphael turned up for breakfast and greeted her woodenly, she put a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. They had never been a sorrier pair. Karai's eyes were puffy and red as she sullenly took her place, poking at her food with chopsticks. She stole a guilty glance over at Raphael, the left side of his jaw bruised and his plastron scratched.

"What happened? I tucked you both into bed myself last night!" Takara exclaimed.

"We snuck into the main dojo last night," Karai blurted. "Father caught us in there and it was all my fault! But Raph..."

"Karai!" Raphael snapped, cutting her off. Elbow resting by his plate, he tucked his face into his hand in exasperation. "Just...please stop."

Takara frowned and looked between two, mentally chiding them for their particularly ill-timed disobedience. Raph started to pick at his food, looking uncomfortable and even a bit embarrassed. The picture became clear to Takara. He had taken all the blame and punishment, or so he thought. In his mood Saki wasn't going to ask questions and had likely dealt with them quickly, knowing either way he would get his point across. Karai was unharmed if she was innocent, or guilt-stricken by Raphael's steep punishment if she wasn't. Raphael was a fiery but sensitive soul, and the attention and apologies Karai was trying to shower him with were wearing down his temper.

Pursing her lips, Takara served herself a bowl of miso soup and joined them at the table. She sighed and took a sip of the warm broth, letting it soothe her from the inside out. Karai was biting her lower lip and looked like she was about to speak once more, despite the fact that Raphael was pointedly ignoring her.

"Karai-san," Takara interjected. "Eat your breakfast or you will be late for your homeschool teacher. Raphael-san, elbow off the table."

Pleased when both children did as she asked and calmed into their morning routine, Takara decided to hold Raphael back from classes for the day. Some time apart would do them good, and she wanted to keep him close for the day. He would never seek out comfort, but he wouldn't refuse it either...if it was presented in the proper way.

They ate in relative peace and Takara cleared their dishes away, then retrieved an ice pack from the freezer which she passed to Raphael. "I'd like you to stay with me for a while longer," she told him.

He looked torn between arguing or enjoying any excuse to miss school.

"Karai-san, come out of the kitchen and let me fix your hair," she added, not waiting for Raphael's response. "Don't worry, he will be with me all day," she assured Karai quietly once they were out of earshot. Takara's weathered hands deftly smoothed over and retied Karai's haphazard ponytail, making sure she was presentable for her tutor.

"But Uba," she whined, clearly still conflicted.

Takara shushed her gently. "Even a gift that is unwanted should be accepted with grace." She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder and smiled. "Do not make your tutor wait. We'll see you for lunch."

"Okay," Karai answered, giving her nanny a quick hug before running off to the study.

Takara returned to the kitchen where Raphael was holding the ice pack to his face gingerly. He eyed her pensively from his chair as she pulled up another to sit directly across from him.

"Ryota-sensei is going to be expecting you at training this afternoon," she said matter-of-factly. She examined the lacerations on his shell and kept her face neutral. "After you ice your jaw I will take care of the scratches. You must keep them very clean until they heal."

Raphael perked up at the mention of training. "Yes, Takara-san."

"After, if you would like to join Karai for class you are welcome to, but I could really use some help cleaning up," she said, smiling softly. "These old hands are very sore today."

He lowered the ice pack and grinned. "I'll help you, Uba."


	11. Sakura

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some innocent fun in the cherry blossoms. Takes place about a month after _Intuition_. Raphael is 6 and Karai is 7.  
>  Rated: K  
> Word count: 803

Yumi sat cross-legged on the thin yellow blanket she had spread in the shade of a sakura tree, marking her page in a book of poetry. She set the small paperback down into her lap, the powder blue and white skirts of her Lolita-style dress blooming elegantly all around her. The cherry trees were in full blossom, drastically softening the courtyard and looming architecture of the manor. It was the perfect kind of morning for two restless children that had been cooped up all winter to have an outdoor class in the sunshine.

Now that Karai was older, they had been appointed different tutors during the week to teach the regular grade school curriculum in Japanese. Yumi had them once a week on Saturday mornings, and since Raphael had become fluent in their native language, they only required English lessons. They were always full of enthusiastic greetings for her, but their current attentions were starting to wane. Raphael was staring out past the enclosed courtyard to the forest, no doubt itching for the freedom to explore. Meanwhile, Karai collected fallen cherry blossoms from the blanket and was making a tiny bouquet of white and pink florets. 

Yumi cleared her throat pointedly, snapping their sheepish gazes back to her. “Haiku poetry has been a very important part of our culture throughout history, and the style has caught on worldwide. Many haikus are inspired by observations made in nature, and the fleeting beauty of cherry blossoms is a popular theme among poets and artists. Now, I’m going to let you go play…”

They cheered loudly, faces alight with youthful exuberance.

“…but do not leave the courtyard or my sight,” she finished sternly. “I will call you back in 15 minutes, then you will have another 20 minutes to write a haiku together.”

“Aww,” they groaned in unison.

Yumi rolled her eyes and shooed them off the blanket, watching them run around as heavy blossoms drifted down lazily around them. She snorted in amusement as they both found sticks, dramatically reciting and acting out a sword fighting scene she recognized from one of her favorite animes. Using her cell to keep track of the time, she fiddled with the two chibi phone charms she had bought with her favorite pupils in mind – a smiling turtle and a winking kitsune. 

Karai was now trying to hit the lower branches of one of the trees with her stick, but couldn’t reach until Raphael hoisted her up onto his shoulders as if she weighed nothing. He had grown like a weed the past couple of years, catching up to Karai in height. The girl let out a high-pitched shriek as Raphael started to run, then found her balance again to knock her stick into every possible branch she could. A flood of white flowers showered them at every pass, both of them laughing mirthfully until they snagged in a tree and went tumbling into the grass.

They were up on their feet an instant later, smiling conspiratorially at one another. Yumi eyed them suspiciously as they jogged back to her. Without a word Raphael gave Karai a boost up the trunk of the tree their teacher was sitting under and followed suit with surprising ease. 

“Raphael, I think you are the only Kappa that can climb trees,” Yumi teased.

Raphael hooked his legs over a bough and let himself hang upside down right above her. “I’m not a Kappa,” he sassed, sticking out his tongue.

Yumi swatted at him playfully but he had already retreated to join Karai higher up. She shimmied out onto a branch and Raph positioned himself on the thickest part of it, holding her steady like an anchor. With a mischievous giggle, Karai grabbed hold of one of the thinner sprigs and shook it for all she was worth. 

Seconds later, Yumi felt the gentle _plunk_ of about 100 tiny flowers falling onto her head and shoulders. “Okay, I think your time is up, you little imps.” She shook out her short black tresses, knowing she would be picking them out of her hair all day. “Time to write.”

Raphael and Karai made their way down and sat a few feet away in the grass, talking and laughing quietly as they counted syllables on their fingers. They grew more excited as their masterpiece came together, and handed it in proudly once they were done.

“Good job, I love it,” Yumi chuckled, reading the three lines. “And I won’t see you until next weekend, so I’ll say happy birthday now. You are dismissed. Straight to the dojo, okay?”

“Okay,” they echoed with matching grins, then ran off into the manor together still half-covered in flowers.

**oooo**

_The trees are like clouds  
raining pretty spring blossoms  
all over Yumi_


	12. Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Karai really wants for her 8th birthday... Takes place a couple days after _Sakura_.

Ueno Park sprawled in welcome, it's main path lit by 1000 hanging lanterns, contrasting sharply with the traffic and noise of the concrete jungle that was central Tokyo. The night was warm and damp from earlier rains, the air heavy with humidity and the mingling scents from the numerous food carts selling all manner of treats. The park thrummed to it's own vibrant pulse as thousands of people came and went through the gates for hanami.

Oroku Saki scanned his surroundings, the revelers and the security quickly out of instinct. Most of the people appeared to be locals but there were many tourists as well, which was to be expected during the brief season for cherry blossom festivals.

Karai stared in absolute wonderment of the scene; the crowds, the vendors, and of course, the sakura trees. The variety of cherry trees that grew in the park were pink, not white like the ones at home, and they were lit up so none of their beauty would be lost to the darkness. Skipping ahead of her father, she jumped into a shallow puddle with a double-footed splash. Nearby, two young women looked on at her fondly and giggled, and she offered them a shy smile while proudly showing off her new black and pink kimono. Yellow rain boots completed the ensemble, but before she could leap to the next puddle, a large hand fell onto her shoulder and urged her to move on. The faces of her admirers sobered immediately and turned away.

The tide of people seemed to ebb in Saki's presence almost unconsciously. If it wasn't the aura of power that surrounded him, one glance at the ghastly scars on his face usually discouraged anyone from staying in his path. Guilt nagged at Karai for begging him to bring her someplace so crowded despite her usual isolation, upset by the way people reacted to her father. It didn't help that she knew he only had the scars because he'd had to rescue _her_ from a burning house. What she didn't know was that Saki walked along behind her smoothly and confidently in his tailored suit, enjoying the fact that he could intimidate anyone here with his mere existence.

Excitement soon took over once again, and she chattered non-stop about the sights, the people and the flowers. Eventually discovering a cart selling sakuramochi, a seasonal sweet dessert, she squealed happily.

"Father, can I get some, please, please?" she asked, bouncing in place.

Saki looked down at her indulgently. "Yes."

"Can I get a box for Raphael? It's his birthday, too."

Saki grunted. They didn't even how old he was for certain, but Karai had long ago decided his birthday would be the same day as hers. "I suppose," he sighed wearily, and she skipped off happily.

She lined up behind a little girl about her age under Saki's watchful eye a short distance away. The girls complimented each others dresses and her mom even knelt to talk to Karai for a moment before they paid the vendor.

Finally, beaming and holding two pink dessert boxes, Karai returned to her father's side. She started fidgeting and playing with the curled white ribbons tying the boxes shut, looked up nervously and asked exactly what Saki knew she would.

"Can you tell me something about Mother?"

His mouth formed a hard line. "Come, Karai," he commanded. "We are leaving shortly."

Trying to hide the disappointment from her features, she followed him through the thinning crowd and off the main path. Hoping she hadn't ruined the evening, she shot a fleeting glance up at Saki, who kept his eyes trained forward impassively. The trail they were now traversing overlooked Shinobazu Pond, which reflected the city and park lights hauntingly and served the as the perfect distraction for Karai's troubled thoughts. Perhaps too much of a distraction, as she suddenly found herself bumping into Saki abruptly enough to almost drop her boxes.

She bit her lip tensely, wondering if she was in trouble when he motioned for her to sit with him at one of the many benches along the grassy bank, growing more anxious as the silence between them deepened.

"This is the exact spot where I first met Tang Shen," Saki said somberly, surprising them both. "She was sitting here in a white summer dress, reading a book."

Karai's heart fluttered buoyantly with delight. "Really? Right here?"

Saki gave a small nod to the affirmative. "You are so much like her Karai, that sometimes it pains me. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes upon, and I knew from that very moment, she would one day be mine."


	13. Assessment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saki tests Raphael and Karai's progress in training. Takes place a couple of months after _Father_. Raphael is 7 and Karai is 8.

Karai circuited the path silently, picking up speed on the straightaway leading to a training dummy staked up in the yard, her split-toed ikitabi slippers offering surprising traction over the damp grass. She sprinted past where Saki and Ryota-Sensei observed like shadows on the sidelines, waiting to hear which pressure point she needed to strike next.

"Kachikaké," Saki barked, giving her mere seconds to react.

The solid black dummy was the size of an average man, and Karai had to spring up into the air to deliver a kick directly to the center of it's throat, rocking it on it's post. Remaining in motion, Karai hit the ground running and circled back around Saki and Ryota for a repeat as Raphael started his charge.

"Myojo ou Tandem."

Raphael threw a punishing uppercut into the dummy's abdomen just below the navel before continuing on.

"Last one," Saki informed them. In her short-sleeved white dogi, his daughter was the brightest thing amongst them on the overcast day. "Ko-kotsu," he called as she flew past him once more.

Karai slid in low for a kick to the upper shin, then joined her father in time to watch Raphael's last run. His bare feet kicked up bits of turf and his green eyes narrowed at the dummy as he approached it.

"Kasumi," Saki said sharply.

Raphael leapt up into a spin kick, his large, rounded foot connecting to the side of the black leathery head with fatal force. Dropping gracefully back to the ground, he loped over to them with a grin.

Saki shared a dark smile with Ryota privately before resting his hand on Karai's shoulder. "Well done." He praised them both, pleased that they had memorized the twenty major pressure points. "It only takes one second, one strike, to turn the tables in a fight. Do not give your enemy that chance."

"Yes, Master," the children echoed automatically.

Raphael and Karai were allowed a few minutes to catch their breath before Ryota passed them each a bokken, wooden swords that simulated the size and weight of a katana. The young pupils exchanged a sour glance as they turned away. When they had first been told they were ready to start training in kendo they had been excited, visions of fine steel and flashy battles running through their minds. Instead they had spent the next month practicing endless repetitions of the same basic strikes and footwork, a purposefully boring and tedious exercise that helped create muscle memory. By now they could practically execute the strokes in their sleep, and completed a curtailed version of suburi almost flawlessly under their sensei's guidance.

"They are ready for kata work," Saki noted.

"Of course, Master," Ryota replied, inclining his head slightly. "I will start them tomorrow with Ippon-me."

The children beamed with pride, excited that their weapons training could officially commence.

"Very well," Saki acknowledged before addressing his wards. "Bokken down, ready positions," he ordered. Raphael and Karai complied right away, bowing quickly to one another before facing off. Prompting them to begin, Saki observed carefully to assess Ryota's recent concerns regarding their sparring.

Karai went on the offensive right away, forcing Raphael to back up a few steps with a flurry of punches that ended with an ax kick. He caught her ankle as her foot angled down towards his shoulder, lifting and twisting to send her into a spin. She hit the ground on her side in a controlled break fall and swung her leg back, sweeping him at the knees and almost knocking him back onto his shell. Trying to take advantage of him being off balance, Karai drove herself up for an open-handed strike to his chin, but in doing so left much of her abdomen vulnerable. Raphael adjusted his weight and knocked her back with a low push kick before re-engaging in their match.

Already a frown marred Saki's scarred features. Karai had purposefully passed up an easy hit to Raphael's core in favor of a riskier attack. She wasn't sparring to practice defeating an enemy in unarmed combat, she was trying to defeat _Raphael_. As for the mutant, he was as tall and lanky as Karai, but his proportions were easily double the girth of the petite kunoichi. It was becoming obvious how much stronger he was; Saki could see how much he held back for her, how carefully he pulled his punches.

"They have progressed even quicker than I expected, but you were right," Saki rumbled to the man at his side. "They are limiting themselves. It would seem that they have already outgrown one another."

"I will work with them individually or teamed together for unarmed sparring from this point on," Ryota said. "I can have them ready to join the Initiates class sooner than we first anticipated, if that is your will."

The corner of Saki's lip twisted up cruelly. "Excellent..."


	14. Spider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael finds an uninvited guest in his room. Takes place about 2 month after Assessment. Raphael is 7 and Karai is 8.

Summer was Raphael’s least favorite season in rural Chiyoda, as it brought him closer to some aspects of nature that he would prefer never to come into contact with – bugs. The hottest months drove them out in unspeakable numbers and varieties, from the bumbling death throes of cicadas as they dropped out of trees onto unsuspecting victims, to the rarer but truly deadly giant hornets. Unfortunately, despite Raphael’s extra vigilance with sticky traps and nightly bedroom checks at the height of the season, it was still entirely possible for him to find himself in his current nightmarish predicament.

As if by some instinct, Raphael awoke before Karai came in to pester him into consciousness, only to stare into the black, beady eyes of the largest spider he had ever seen. His mind tried to deny the reality of the fanged horror show only inches from his face, on the very same pillow his cheek was pressed to. He gripped his blanket and held his breath, not daring to move. The drab, brown spider broke their stalemate with a simple twitch of a leg, sending Raphael into a lightning fast huddle at the foot of his bed. Clutching his blanket to his plastron as if it could shield him, he took a deep, panicked breath and screamed. The arachnid hell-beast sauntered casually across his pillow where his head had just been, completely indifferent to the racket.

He was still frozen to the spot in wide-eyed terror when Karai burst through the door seconds later.

“Kill it!” he bawled.

Karai’s troubled features turned quickly to amusement at the sight of the large but harmless spider reducing her bruiser of a best friend into such a sorry state. She rolled her eyes and snatched a book off of Raphael’s desk and set about rescuing him.

“It’s just a huntsman spider, Raph,” Karai chided with a grin. “And it’s a baby, even.”

Raphael scuttled from the bed with shudder, bringing his blanket with him and letting it drag on the floor as he backed up, chest heaving. “That’s…that’s a baby?!” he wheezed. It was the same size as the delicate hand Karai held the book in.

“Yeah, they get twice this big at least,” she said nonchalantly as she used his pillow to gently coax the spider onto the hardcover. “It’s kind of cute, we should keep it as a pet.”

“No way!” Raphael protested angrily. Karai balanced the book like a platter and slowly approached him with a devilish grin. “Don’t bring it over here!” he warned.

“Come on, let’s go put it outside. You should like them, they eat cockroaches,” she said reasonably.

To Raphael, the idea of something gross being eaten by something grosser did nothing to appease his mood and he shivered. “Just go without me,” Raphael said in a pleading voice, hoping Karai and her new buddy would put much more than five feet of distance between them.

“Ohhh, fine,” Karai sighed in exasperation.

As she turned for the door the book slipped in her open palm and tilted ever so slightly but abruptly enough to disturb the spider. Huntsman’s were docile, but this one had had just about enough and bolted up Karai’s outstretched arm. She shrieked in surprise and flung her arm out almost hard enough to hurt, inadvertently sending it soaring back in Raphael’s direction.

He dropped his blanket on the floor and frantically brushed himself off and ran around the room. “Getitoff, getitoff,” he hollered.

Karai, now laughing so hard she could barely breathe, finally got Raph to stand still long enough to determine that he did not, in fact, have a spider on him. She shook out the blanket and searched for it as Raphael jumped at the sight of his own shadow. Ten minutes and a failed recovery mission later, they trudged down the halls together to the kitchen for breakfast.

Raphael was fuming over Karai insisting on playing around with the creepy crawler in the first place, and now not only did he have to burn his pillow and book, he couldn’t step foot in his room without his skin crawling. “We are trading rooms until I see that spider dead,” he growled between gritted teeth.

She was still struggling to control her giggling, amber eyes sparkling with nearly-shed tears. “Deal, you big chicken,” Karai agreed, elbowing him playfully in the arm.


	15. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael and Karai start to master the basics of Kendo. Takes place about 5 months after _Spider_. Raphael is 7 and Karai is 8.

Clad from head to toe in black kendo armor, Karai smirked at Raphael from between the bars of her mask before bowing and readying her stance. Raphael snorted quietly in retort and tightened his grip on his bokken. He didn't require the full bogu like she did, wearing only a custom fit facemask and gauntlets along with the new winter cloak Takara had made for him. The bright afternoon sun had melted away the dusting of morning frost, but the dried grass still crunched into the cold ground underfoot as they circled one another.

Ryota had them train outdoors more often as they got older, exposing them to a variety of terrains and conditions to test their adaptability. "Begin!" he called, his voice cutting through the crisp air.

Karai darted forward with her bokken raised above her head and the sharp crack of wood hitting wood echoed across the courtyard as Raphael blocked. He spun away, his crimson cloak billowing all about him before he returned with a strike of his own. She swept it aside and threatened with a jab, then quickly rose her weapon and brought it down in a diagonal cut aimed at the sloping flap that protected the right side of his neck. He caught sight of it peripherally just in time and instinctively turned to take the hit off of his carapace. The solid blow reverberated up the wooden sword and rattled Karai's arm to the shoulder, giving him the chance to swiftly score a point with a hard rap to the lower side of her breastplate.

"Raphael!" Ryota scolded, making both children stand at attention. "Dodge or block. A katana, or any other quality blade, will cut through bone. What is a turtle's shell made of?"

"Bone, Sensei," Raphael answered, averting his eyes.

"That match goes to Karai."

Raphael grumbled under his breath as Karai gave him a sly, side-long glance of satisfaction.

"Now, team up," Ryota instructed, advancing on them and giving his own bokken a casual twirl.

Raphael and Karai stood shoulder to shoulder warily, automatically taking the defensive against their sensei.

Ryota easily drove them apart within a few moves. "Mind your footwork, Raphael," he reminded, smoothly pivoting to the boy's left.

Raphael stumbled slightly as he glanced down to correct himself and tried to block simultaneously. Ryota's bokken thrust through the weak guard and rapped his upper plastron.

"You don't need to look at your feet to know where they are," he said sharply, parrying an attack by Karai. She had better form so far, but tended to drift too far into her opponent's personal space. "Too _close_ , Karai," he reprimanded for what seemed like the hundredth time, spinning to grab and restrain her sword arm. He elbowed her mask to further demonstrate his point, then shoved her hard enough to knock her down on her backside.

Raphael growled, lurching forward with his weapon pointed squarely at Ryota's back only to be promptly evaded. He felt the impact of a kick against his shell as he swept past, sending him sprawling onto the frozen turf next to Karai.

"You must work together to even hope to score a hit on me," Ryota said coolly. "You face a common enemy – protect your ally, compliment each others fighting style with your own."

"Yes, Sensei," Karai said quickly, rising to her feet and straightening her bogu.

Ryota engaged his pupils once again, pushing them hard and watching with satisfaction as their movements took on more purpose and cohesion. They did not manage to hit him that session; they wouldn't for some time. Undaunted no matter how many blows they took, their barrage against him continued until they were both panting heavily, their breaths puffing visibly from the bars of their masks in the chilled air.

He allowed them a short break and had them face off against each other once more. Without hesitation Raphael and Karai switched back into a competitive mindset, striving to exploit the very weaknesses they had just worked to defend.

They were nearly ready.


	16. Example

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ****Rated: T for violence/dark themes****  
>  Sometimes an example needs to be made to make the message clear. Takes place about 4 months after _Progress_. Raphael is 8 and Karai is 9.

Raphael felt as if he had woken into a nightmare. Saki, in full Shredder garb, had come to collect him from bed well before dawn. Despite Karai being wide-eyed and silent by his side, her long black hair in a sloppy pony tail and the days clothing haphazardly hanging off of her, the sight of him sent Raphael into a cold panic. It was impossible not to feel the anger rolling from the tall, spiked figure in the semi-darkness; Shredder was absolutely _livid_.

Something had happened. Something bad.

Raphael sprung from bed before the order was even uttered, his racing heart clearing away any lingering grogginess. Karai's cool, shaky hand grabbed his immediately as Shredder turned on his heel and gestured for them to follow. The manor buzzed with activity, men and women in full uniform scattering before their Master to avoid his wrath. Everyone headed to the hall, a room used for charity balls and political functions in certain company, but it's true purpose was for Foot tournaments, meetings and ceremonies.

Karai and Raphael's grip on each other tightened as they entered the expansive room on Saki's heels. Shredder had called in everyone, regardless of rank or seniority, and at least sixty people had answered on a moment's notice even at this hour. The sea of black and red parted silently, revealing two Soldiers with a chained man on his knees between them. Besides a few bruises he appeared unscathed, hair short and spiked and his eyes fierce. The tattooed head and scales of an open-mouthed serpent crept up the right side of his neck from beneath the collar of his gray shirt.

A hand fell on one of Karai and Raphael's shoulders, preventing them from following Shredder into the center of the ring of people, startling them both. Raphael recognized Ryota's scent and stilled, shooting Karai a reassuring glance.

Shredder stood over the chained man, looking down at him with contempt. "Yakuza scum," he spat. "Interfering in the Foot Clan's business is foolhardy enough, but you must be truly desperate for my attention to show up at my home, and make an attempt on my daughter. I cannot let this pass unpunished."

The man struggled, eyes narrowed. "Too much of a coward to fight me without all of your men?" he demanded, straining his chains.

"They have been ordered not to interfere in any way," Shredder answered, "but I will not be the one to break you. You are beneath me, snake," he said, turning his back on the captive.

Raphael's heart almost stopped when his Master looked him dead in the eye and spoke. "Boy, it is time for you to prove yourself."

Ryota pushed Raphael forward and he walked numbly to Shredder, away from the safety of the crowd.

"He is one of five men that were caught on the premises with the intent of kidnapping Karai. An example must be made so that this never happens again," Shredder explained to Raphael. "Leave him alive," he added, lowering his voice.

"A-alive? I wasn't going to..." Raphael stammered in a whisper, matching Shredder's tone. "Master, I don't think I can..." he started, panic rising within him at the thought of fighting a trained Yakuza soldier.

"Listen to me," Shredder cut him off. "You are the one always by her side. You must show our enemies that you can keep her safe when I am not there. Do you understand what could have happened if they took her? What those men might have done to her?"

The warmth of anger cut through cold fear as realization dawned on him. Overwhelmed, all he could manage in response was, "Oh." They would have kept her as long as they wanted to manipulate the Foot Clan. They would have hurt her, maybe even tortured or killed her. And Saki had put an emphasis on men, what they could do to her as men. A sick, heavy sensation went through his gut, his head swimming dizzily as a long, rumbling growl pushed it's way out from between his gritted teeth.

"This is what you have been training for," Shredder said, his voice feeling like a smooth caress to Raphael's nerves.

The moment Saki left the young mutant standing alone and revealed to 'Snake', he started laughing cruelly. "Am I supposed to be afraid of your little monster?" he shouted to Shredder's back.

"Release him," Shredder ordered simply.

The moment the chains hit the ground and slunk away across the floor with the Soldiers holding them, Raphael lunged. Snake deftly caught him with an open-handed uppercut to the side of the jaw, sprawling him flat onto his plastron. Worse yet, the man was still laughing at him like the freak of nature he was. Baring his teeth and tightening his hands into fists, Raphael tried to clear the stars from his head and get up. He yelped as he was kicked in the side where his shell was softest, the impact flipping him onto his back and sending a sharp bloom of pain through his core.

No one in the blur of faceless black masks budged. No help was coming; he was alone. Another kick to the same spot sent him skidding a foot or two across the floor on his shell. In his daze he could hear Karai protesting that this was her fight, that she should at least be allowed to help.

What would he have left without her? What if she got hurt one day because he was too weak? The throbbing in his head and side suddenly muted in comparison to the absolute devastation those questions evoked in his mind.

"Can you get up off your back, turtle?" Snake taunted.

Raphael swung his heel into the side of the man's knee hard enough to feel a pop, sweeping his feet out from under him and sending him crashing to the ground.

"Can you?" he shot back.

They sprung to their feet and almost immediately Raphael found himself on the defensive against his much more experienced foe, who was slowly backing him into the unyielding wall of people. Raphael wasn't used to taking such hard hits in training, but this wasn't sparring. He had almost lost Karai and now he had the chance to make someone pay; for once, he didn't have to hold back.

 _An example must be made._ A feral grin came over Raphael's face as he tuned out the crowd and cleared his mind of everything but his purpose, his eyes blinking white mid-scuffle. The sudden change in him startled the man, and the second of distraction cost him dearly. Raphael threw an unrestrained punch to his side with rib-cracking force, then followed up by smashing an elbow into his face as Snake gasped and doubled over. He clutched his side and groaned miserably on his knees, blood dripping from his crooked nose. Confident now, Raphael advanced to end it.

Snake retrieved a small knife from it's hiding spot in his shirt, leaning over and exaggerating his injured stance to cover the motion. As Raphael got into range Snake's arm arced out, leaving a long, shallow laceration across his plastron.

In the moment it took for Raphael to register that his foe had dared to pull a weapon on him, Snake lurched to his feet and stabbed the blade into his upper arm. Raphael snarled and slammed the heel of his palm into Snake's sternum, knocking him back a few paces and jarring his broken ribs.

Breathing in quick, shallow pants, Snake's eyes held nothing now but desperation and pain, but he was still armed and refused to give up. Feinting a low attack to Raphael's right, his knife changed hands in a blink and he went high for a throat-cutting slash on the left. Raphael caught his rouse just in time, snagging Snake's wrist in a vice grip. Raphael lifted the man's knife hand over his head, his other hand striking sharply up into Snake's elbow. There was a tidy snapping sound, followed by the clatter of metal and a scream of pain.

Raphael flung him away in disgust, watching his broken and bloody rival crumple into a pathetic, groaning heap. In one fluid motion, he picked up the bloodied knife, yanked back the gangster's head and pressed the blade against his snake tattoo.

"Do it...monster," Snake heaved, staring at Raphael fearlessly.

 _Leave him alive._ Raphael's hand shook enough to make a shallow scratch on the man's throat. He blinked, the white snapping back to reveal his startled emerald eyes. Not ten minutes ago, he had been positive he could never kill someone. He struck a pressure point with the hilt of the knife and let his first real opponent fall at his feet, defeated and unconscious. Slowly he returned to his senses, grimacing and clapping a hand over the gash in his arm to try and staunch the bleeding.

Shredder leaned over to the General at his side. "Make sure he's dropped off at the nearest known Yakuza-owned establishment," he said quietly over the low murmuring of the gathered crowd. He didn't expect anyone from the Foot to try and cross him in the near future after that display, either.

"It will be done, Master Shredder," he replied impassively. "And the other four?"

Shredder sneered. "Burial at sea."


	17. Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picks up the morning after _Example_. Raphael is 8 and Karai is 9.

Raphael and Karai marched irritably down the hall, having found the kitchen empty of both Takara and breakfast. While Saki had insisted that they spend the remainder of the day under his constant supervision, negating the need for their nanny, they had fully expected Takara to be there this morning. Her absence added to the uncomfortable prickle of tension in the air that had been building between them since yesterday evening.

Karai had spent a restless night stewing, not on the danger she had been in, but on the fact that she had been excluded from fighting the previous morning. Her rant seemed to gain momentum in time with her agitation, and Raphael dragged his feet along next to her and focused on keeping his temper in check.

“I’m older,” she insisted as Raphael tuned back in. “I promised to take care of _you_. I can fight my own battles.”

The throbbing in Raphael’s temples was starting to match that in his bandaged arm. He felt like he had been hit by a bus, and winced at the thought of Karai being in his place. “I’m stronger and I heal faster,” he pointed out.

“I bet it’s because I’m the _girl_ ,” she grumbled sullenly.

Raphael’s head fell back as he let out a long-suffering sigh. “It’s because you are his daughter and I’m just…” He faltered.

After he had defeated his opponent, Shredder had placed a clawed hand on his shoulder and told Raphael how proud he was. It had been the first time in four years that the man had ever touched him outside of training or necessity, and it had filled Raphael with a righteous pride in his adrenaline-fueled afterglow. In that moment, he had thought that he would do anything to bask in the feeling of his Master’s warmth and acceptance once again.

But what was he to Saki? Certainly not a son.

Karai, who had completely missed the shift in Raphael’s demeanor, took his reticence as an opening to continue prattling on. “Why not both of us?” she demanded, pulling Raphael from his troubled thoughts.

“Your father isn’t going to let you get kicked around if I’m there, and neither will _I_ ,” he snapped.

“I can take care of myself!” she said stubbornly, her voice rising.

Raphael clenched his teeth together, green eyes flashing in her direction. “It wasn’t my choice!”

“I know! I’m not mad at you!”

“Then why are you yelling at me?” he shouted, barely managing to keep from throwing his arms out in exasperation and possibly popping a stitch.

Karai stopped abruptly, mouth agape to retort before she checked herself and took a breath.

“Cease your incessant bickering.” Saki’s voice carried out of the private dojo he was warming up in, making both children jump. They were practically right outside the open entrance, and shuffled quickly inside with a respectful bow.

“Forgive me for interrupting, Father,” Karai said humbly.

Raphael stayed quiet, taking in the scene suspiciously. Saki was alone, still warming up, and was accepting their intrusion far too readily. As if he had been expecting them. Raphael’s heart sunk into his stomach as he distantly heard Karai explain that they could not find Takara.

“Takara is no longer under my employment,” Saki said casually. “She has decided to seek other opportunities.”

Karai’s eyes widened. “Uba…left us?”

Saki almost flinched at the use of such a babyish word. “You are getting much too old for a nanny. We have other staff that can assist you.”

“She didn’t even say good-bye?” Karai asked in disbelief.

Saki looked down at her, his usually overwhelming countenance as gentle as he could manage. “She was an employee, Karai. Caring for you was simply a job. I have told you over and over again, people come and go, forget and betray. Do not get attached, do not trust anyone. It will make you weak. Vulnerable.”

“Yes, Father,” she said quietly, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.

“Remember, only family will be there for you in the end,” he said, holding a hand out to her.

Karai flung her arms around him, embracing him briefly but fiercely. Saki rested a hand atop her head, his gaze falling on Raphael curiously.

Raphael stood straight and kept his face expressionless, just as he had while watching the exchange between them.

Saki seemed satisfied and turned his attention back to Karai. “Was there something else you required?” he asked, his voice starting to take on its typical edge.

“No,” she said, clearing her throat and standing tall. “We can get our own breakfast.”

Raphael’s shoulders slumped as they left the dojo, his hand seeking Karai’s silently. He wasn’t hungry anymore, and Karai didn’t complain when he led her back to their rooms instead of the kitchen. Entering his own bedroom, he headed straight for his dresser and took out one of the few items of clothing he had; the red cloak Takara had made for him.

They sat side by side dejectedly on the hardwood floor, and Raphael wrapped the light fabric around both of them without speaking. Karai was determined not to cry, tightly controlling the sob that wanted to burst forth, but accepted the comfort of the cloak and his arm around her.

“I’m sorry,” Raphael whispered into the silken strands of her long, black hair.

He felt like he had just watched Karai lose her mother again, only this time it was his fault. For what else would be so unforgivable that Takara would leave them without a word, if not the fact that he had nearly killed someone?


	18. Teacher's Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael and Karai join the Initiates class, but the students have mixed feelings towards the pair. Takes place about a month after _Guilt_. Raphael is 8 and Karai is 9.

Kaito practiced his katas alongside his class, sneaking furtive glances across the dojo at the two newbies working with Master Shredder. Not that he wasn't quite new himself, having only turned twelve a couple of months ago, but both of his parents were shinobi in the Foot Clan, and he had prepared for this through much of his childhood. Scarcely a week after his birthday he had given his vow to serve the Shredder, officially becoming a member of the Clan that his family had served for three generations before him. Karai and Raphael were technically too young to be Initiates, but being the daughter and ward of Oroku Saki obviously had its benefits.

Being given one-on-one tips and demonstrations by the Master was an absolute honor, and all of the students did their best to impress him enough to catch his eye whenever he graced their training sessions. His favor and praise was highly valued and coveted amongst them. It was understandable that Master Shredder would focus mainly on Karai, his daughter and heir, especially on her first day.

Raphael, on the other hand, was just a freak, destined to be a soldier like the rest of them. Kaito and some of the others harbored an intense jealousy for the years of care and training the mutant had received. There were many students much more deserving of a place by the Master's side, so why the turtle? Supposedly he was very strong and had defeated a member of the Yakuza, but Kaito was still waiting to be impressed. Raphael had held back in the first round of sparring today almost timidly, and had been defeated by his opponent quickly.

Only one other person was more reviled than Raphael for taking up so much of Shredder's attention; the wealthy 'golden boy' he had recruited from America, Chris Bradford. A talented fighter that had competed on a national level, he'd been invited to stay in Japan for a time under the direct tutelage of Saki. Since he had a proven record and was older at twenty-one, Bradford acted as a sort of teaching assistant on a fairly regular basis. In a class full of teenagers collected from a variety of troubled backgrounds, most outcasts of their extremely strict society, Bradford represented a privilege and freedom that they had never known. He could be unnecessarily rough and casually condescending, his insincerity often making even kind words offensive.

With much vexation in Kaito's heart, he ambled over to Bradford's corner of the dojo as his name was called. The students were being split up into groups of six to eight for their second sparring session, overseen by either Master Shredder, Ryota-sensei, Machi-sensei or Bradford. To make matters worse, Kaito's assigned group consisted of Raphael and four of the youngest boys.

"Alright, pair up and let's get this over with," Bradford drawled in English. He set his sights on Raphael and frowned, disdain in his eyes.

For once, Kaito actually shared Bradford's sentiment and was relieved to be paired against Souta, the one boy in his group that he actually knew and liked. Souta had been recruited after showing promise in an open-house tournament put on by the public dojos. His family couldn't afford the steep cost of lessons there, but he'd been privately invited to train for free as a member of the Foot. His parents were thrilled to accommodate their son, under the guise that he had been offered a scholarship through the legitimate martial arts academy.

"Begin!" Machi-sensei's voice cut through the tense, eager energy.

The dojo erupted into life. The sharp, shouted _kiai's_ of the fighters echoed off the walls along with the deeper voices of the men coaching them and mingled with the muffled sounds of bare feet shuffling over mats and dull thuds of strikes being landed or blocked.

Kaito threw himself into his fight enthusiastically, enjoying the challenge Souta offered as a sparring partner. Off to their left, Raphael was on the defensive against a tall, lanky boy named Yuta. The mutant was slowly drifting over the invisible boundary between their matches as Yuta continued to back him up. With a small, smug smile tugging at his lips, Kaito broke a clinch and pushed away from Souta. He smoothly side-stepped to Raphael's flank, reaching out to grasp the top ridge of his shell. He almost recoiled at the alien feel of the hard, textured scutes he gripped, but fought it long enough to fling the unsuspecting turtle towards Souta.

Surprised, Souta attempted to dodge, but the two collided shoulder to shoulder roughly.

"Hey!" Raphael exclaimed angrily, whipping around to face Kaito.

Irritated by the interference, Souta retaliated against Raphael with a leg kick that landed just above the back of his knee, swiftly followed by an open-handed hit across the jaw from Yuta.

"Watch where you're going," Kaito taunted, laughing as Raphael realized he was surrounded.

Bradford smirked and pretended not to notice how the three boys had turned on him, suddenly very intent on the match between the remaining two in his group.

They worked together to best the creature Master Shredder had deemed worthy of his time and resources, sending a constant barrage of strikes his way from every side. Raphael could certainly take the punishment, Kaito would concede to that much. The angrier they made the turtle, the more they battered and teased him, egging him on until he was lashing out and snarling like an animal. Raphael finally managed to catch Yuta with an elbow just below the sternum, flooring him and knocking the wind from his lungs.

"Stop!" Ryota's voice rang out over the racket, making everyone in the room halt. "That's enough!"

Raphael automatically obeyed his Sensei's voice, the fist bound for Kaito's face freezing and hovering in the air between them. "You're lucky," he growled through clenched teeth.

"One on one sparring today, Bradford," Ryota barked in annoyance.

Bradford shrugged innocently, looking bored.

Souta had retreated, but Kaito glared at the mutant, red-faced with rage. _Lucky?_

Raphael's cold, emerald eyes stared back before dismissing him completely, then added to the insult by turning his shell to Kaito and shifting his attention to Ryota. Seizing the opportunity, Kaito lunged forward and struck the pressure point at the base of his skull, watching with satisfaction as the mutant collapsed flat onto his plastron into temporary unconsciousness.

Even the adults fell into a still hush of disbelief as Raphael thudded to the mats. Karai was the first to move, brushing swiftly past anyone who tried to reach for her.

Kaito found himself transfixed as he watched her furious approach, her striking honey-brown eyes holding his gaze intently as she marched up to him. She was so slender and petite, short enough that she had to stand on her toes as she cradled the back of his head firmly in her hands. He couldn't pull away once she had him, coming to his senses in time to brace himself as she slammed his face down into her knee.

He heard his nose break before he felt it, then the rush of tears and blood just before the dizzying pain set in. In the background, a mix of gasps and shocked exclamations sounded muted and distant, until Bradford's hearty laughter tipped him back from the brink of passing out. A towel was shoved to his face and Machi-Sensei hollered for Bradford to get him out of the dojo before he bled all over the floor. As Kaito was led out in a daze by the arm, holding a bloody towel to his nose and blinking away tears, he caught Karai's piercing glare once more. He decided right then and there, that when it was Karai's time to lead the Foot, he would happily follow her into hell and back.


	19. Hachiko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saki finds himself unexpectedly haunted by the past. Takes place about 5 months after _Teacher's Pet_. Raphael is 8 and Karai is 9.

Oroku Saki leaned back into the black leather chair at his desk, pinching between his eyes in irritation. His office, as large and luxuriously decorated as it was, had nonetheless started to feel like a prison cell. He was a man of action, not to be trapped behind a desk for hours at a time. Yet here he was, making sure the only paper trails the Foot left were the ones he wanted to leave, that his assets were being properly laundered through his public martial arts academy, and reviewing political campaigns to decide which would be most profitable to fund. He sat straight and took a few deep, cleansing breaths before continuing.

Unrolling a map of Tokyo, he spread it out over the polished wood, ready for his next task. The Yakuza had received Saki's message loud and clear. After many weeks of negotiation, they had split the sprawling city into territories. As long as they did not trespass or interfere with each others business, a truce would hold. It was a tenuous agreement, but it would do for now. He looked over the areas marked in red, the places the Yakuza now exclusively controlled, his mind already calculating the new logistics of maintaining his networks and shipping routes.

A loud, rapid knocking at his door made his eyes flick up, immediately alert. He sighed as he recognized the frenetic noise; only the kids knocked like that.

"Enter," Saki said, wearily wondering what nonsense they were up to this time.

They scuttled into his office and up to the opposite side of his desk. Raphael stayed a step behind Karai, fidgeting and staring at the floor. Karai's face was flushed from the December cold, and she held Raphael's winter cloak securely to her chest in a bundle.

Saki scowled impatiently. Raphael was known to sometimes bring home small creatures he had found, hiding them away in his room as if secrets were possible in this place. Saki's first assumption was that the mutant had sinister plans for them, but it had turned out that he was nursing injured animals back to health for release. He didn't care either way what Raphael was doing with them, and the children had never brought any into his presence before. How broken was this thing they had found, that they were desperate enough to go to him?

Karai revealed a scrawny, beige Akita puppy and attempted to explain herself in a rush. She spoke so animatedly that it was difficult to follow her words, but he understood enough. They had found it while playing in the forest, shivering and searching vainly through the semi-frozen underbrush for something edible.

"Can we keep him?" she asked hopefully. "Please, please, please?"

Her pleading eyes, so much like her mother's, brought an instance of deja-vu to Saki so vividly that he felt his chest constrict.

"Oh, please, Saki?" Tang Shen practically begged, holding a fluffy, white puppy against her chest. Its tiny tail wagged furiously as it squirmed, trying to nestle under her chin.

He sighed, almost giving in when she giggled happily as it inched up and licked her ear. "You know our building is strict about pets," Saki implored reasonably. "The apartment is new, and puppies are destructive."

"But I'm not used to being so far from my family, and you are always away with your uncle. I get lonely," she said wistfully. "Surely, you could speak to the building's tenant board and..."

"Shen," he cut her off sternly. "They will not change the rules for us. And you know I must finish my training with Takeshi. He has all the deeds to my family inheritance, and he will not hand them over until it is complete."

The playful yips of the other puppies scampering around in the sidewalk pen reminded them that their increasingly tense conversation was taking place in front of a pet store on a busy street. The clerk for the store shifted uncomfortably, trying not to eavesdrop. Shen thanked her and handed the puppy back sadly.

She threaded her fingers together with Saki's so they could continue down the sidewalk, obviously trying to choose her words carefully. "I don't think he has your best interests in mind, and we are all worried about you."

Saki's grip on her hand tightened reflexively and he stopped, pulling them aside and out of the flow of pedestrian traffic. "We?" he demanded.

"Yes, we," she insisted. "Me. Our friends. Your brother. We hardly see you anymore."

"Yoshi is _not_ my brother," he hissed through his teeth. "My uncle is the only family that I have left, and he holds the key to my future. _Our_ future. I'm doing this for us."

Shen looked down at the cracked pavement between them, silent as a scolded child.

Saki took a minute to calm his nerves, mindful to ease back his imposing posture so he wasn't looming over her. "Did I not cancel training this week so I could go to the festival with all of you?" he asked gently.

"Well, yes," she answered reluctantly.

He took both of her hands in his, delicately, leaning in slowly to nuzzle the ear that the dog had not. "And do I not lavish you with attention when I _am_ here?" he asked suggestively.

"Saki!" she whispered sharply in mock scandal.

He kissed Shen's cheek, making her smile and blush. "When I reclaim my family estate, I promise that you can have as many dogs as you like."

"Father?"

Karai's voice abruptly transported him back to the present. He must have been lost in his memory a moment too long, as both her and the turtle were looking nervous.

"That dog will be your responsibility, understood? Now, go get it cleaned up," Saki ordered, waving his hand dismissively.


	20. Conduit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael struggles with his growing rage and is only given one way to cope. Takes place about 4 months after _Hachiko_. Raphael is 9 and Karai is 10.

Raphael had always had a hard time with his temper, and his control over it had been borne of necessity. He had been abandoned by his first family because of his outbursts, then swept away into the strict upbringing of Oroku Saki's household. Never daring to show his rage to Saki, and never wanting to unjustly take it out on Karai, he had buried it deeply within his psyche.

"Don't show any mercy," Saki chided harshly, encouraging Raphael to attack once more. "No one out there will offer it to you."

It was true, of course. Trying to get along with the Initiates, for example, had been nearly impossible.

_He hated that he had to hold back so much, despite the other students leaving him with fresh bruises almost daily for a year._

Though the people he trained with had learned the hard way to respect Raphael's strength, they were always the roughest on him. He heard their snide comments behind his back and kept his stoic mask in place, unflinching on the surface.

_He hated how Kaito showed off for Karai and shot her brash grins, and how sometimes, she smiled back._

Raphael's fist collided with the chest plate of Shredder's armor. He could feel the force being redistributed evenly over the uniquely curved metal as it absorbed the bulk of his impact. Even when he managed to strike Saki, the man felt untouchable.

"Stop holding back, boy!" Saki yelled, knocking Raphael to the mats for what seemed like the thousandth time.

 _Boy. Never Raphael_ , he thought bitterly to himself, the coppery taste of blood in his mouth. He wiped his brow and gritted his teeth, taking in the way Saki had barely broken a sweat despite the ferocity of their sparring. Like a wave breaking against a cliff, Raphael was up and charging once again.

_Right now, most of all, he hated Saki. The terrifying visage of the Shredder was the only semblance of a father figure he had, but there was no warmth or kindness to be found._

During his life among humans, Raphael had refused to let anyone see how their words and actions affected him, lest they sense his weakness and exploit it. To those who didn't know him, he may have seemed cold and withdrawn; many had never even heard him speak. It was the only way to hide the seemingly endless well of anger and resentment that seethed within him.

Over a year ago, when he had defeated the Yakuza soldier who almost took Karai from him, everything had changed.

Being free to let the mask slip away, to have the darkness escape and destroy his enemy had been exhilarating. That hadn't diminished the guilt or fear at losing control afterward, but as it had faded, his rage seemed to permanently simmer closer to the surface.

And somehow, Saki always knew when Raphael was nearing his breaking point.

"Focus your anger, use it to your advantage," Saki bit out, landing a kick to Raphael's chest that sent him sprawling backwards.

Eyes narrowed and white, Raphael growled from across the dojo and tucked into a sprinter's crouch. Fighting the Shredder was an exercise in futility, but he gave in to all the hate in his heart, letting it grow into a blinding heat as his muscles coiled. His senses narrowed, fear and pain dropping away. He became the eye of his own storm, the calm intensity resolved to the utter destruction of all in his path.

With a roar that resounded off the far walls of the dojo, he threw himself at Saki. Unwilling to stop his furious assault until he was exhausted, beaten, or both, Raphael would sate his temper for another month, maybe two.

Staying in constant motion no matter what impact he took, Raphael let himself be the monster Saki had always known he could be, unashamed for the moment of his deepest, darkest secret.

_He loved every minute of it._


	21. Meditation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryota needs some time to unwind. Takes place about 5 months after _Conduit_. Raphael is 9 and Karai is 10.

Ryota inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the late-summer air slowly fill his lungs before releasing it, transitioning fluidly into another tai chi pose. Attempting to enjoy the natural beauty of the courtyard around him, he began to clear his distracted mind and regain his composure.

Chris Bradford had finally left Japan earlier in the week, off to compete in a few upcoming international tournaments. When Bradford returned to the United States, no doubt a champion, he was to open and oversee a chain of martial arts academies with Master Shredder as a silent partner. Bradford was expected to train his top students into the U.S. branch of the Foot Clan, and Ryota had been expected to turn the spoiled lout into a decent sensei. Much to his frustration, Bradford had a lot of growing up to do before he would be an effective teacher, and Ryota had advised Master Shredder to send some of the Japanese instructors in his stead. Bradford could then make ‘celebrity’ appearances at his dojos and still be free to recruit an army.

Happily, none of that was his problem anymore, and Ryota felt the tension slip away from his body with each smooth, deliberate movement.

A short distance to his right, Raphael’s voice jarred him back to reality.

“Geez, Karai, warn me next time you’re going to stomp all over me,” the turtle snapped. Karai was perched atop his shell, struggling to regain her balance as Raphael glanced over his shoulder to chastise her.

“I’m just switching feet, don’t tip me!” Karai replied curtly.

Ryota shushed them with a venomous glare. Raphael resumed doing push-ups, and Karai aligned herself on her right foot, perfectly centered on the highest point of Raphael’s carapace. The bottom of her left foot rested against her thigh, her knee turned out to the side in perfect standing tree pose.

Since surpassing the need to train in the Initiates classes, the kids had entered the main program with all of the other Foot members. Except they were still just _kids_ , and even the youngest soldiers were two or three years older than them. Karai intimidated everyone but the men, and Raphael was a socially awkward mutant. This meant, by default, that Ryota was the one person they knew and trusted that was around on a daily basis. Somehow, he had become their replacement nanny. When they were not with their tutors they seemed to gravitate to him, their energy, competition and bickering never-ending. Left to their own devices, however, they tended to get up to all sorts of mischief.

Ryota had to get creative for even the ghost of a chance of some quiet time, hence their current exercise. Raphael had trouble being still to meditate, and Karai needed an extra challenge to stay interested in it. He watched as she folded her hands in front of her face as if in prayer and closed her eyes, while Raphael’s arms propelled them up and down at a steady pace.

Resuming his forms, Ryota focused on his breathing and the warm, soothing flow of energy through his muscles.

Karai snorted. “Your arms are shaking already.”

“They are not,” Raphael grumbled, “but you are definitely heavier than last time…”

“ _Children_.” Ryota warned them pointedly, his patience frayed.

Karai nibbled her bottom lip to hide a smirk, but they both were blissfully silent once again.

Ryota should have known it was too good to last, as Hachiko came barreling out of the manor and practically darted through his legs, barking in excitement. The dog’s curled tail wagged maniacally as he rushed straight to Raphael, pawing and licking his face in greeting. Raphael tried to hold him at bay with one hand, shifting his shell to the side slightly and sending Karai tumbling into the grass beside him. Laughing, she shoved Raphael’s side with her foot, knocking him flat and leaving him to the mercy of the Akita’s exuberant affections.

Ryota let out a long-suffering sigh and ran his hand through his short, graying hair.

At least Bradford was gone.


	22. Pierced

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karai craves some autonomy within her strict upbringing, but she must earn it. Takes place roughly a year after _Meditation_. Raphael is 10 and Karai is 11.

Raphael sat heavily on the wooden bench in the dojo, wiping the sweat from his face with a towel. He took a few thirst-quenching gulps from his water bottle before slumping forward, elbows resting on thighs, his limbs feeling leaden after a session in the adjoining weights room. With a satisfied sigh he settled in silently to wait for Karai, who was finishing up a private lesson with Saki.

She was perfecting a new throw, and four men had volunteered to help, allowing themselves to be repeatedly hoisted and tossed to the tatami mats by the black-clad father and daughter duo. It was really something to behold, watching Karai flip grown men over her shoulder, mimicking Saki’s demonstrations tirelessly. She was so slight and fragile-looking in direct comparison to the soldiers she worked with, but it didn’t fool Raphael for a second. Quirking his lip and letting the white towel flop limply over one shoulder, he wondered how long it would be before she caught _him_ with that move.

Saki called everyone in for a quick break, looking as pleased as he ever did with Karai’s progress. “Two on one sparring before we finish for the day,” he stated simply, gesturing at two of the Foot soldiers to take up positions on either side of her.

“Of course,” she said dutifully with a small nod. “Father?” she added somewhat tentatively. “I want my ears pierced.”

“ _No_.” Saki’s response was immediate, with a note of finality that suggested this wasn’t the first time she had broached the subject with him.

Karai narrowed her eyes and tilted her chin up stubbornly, causing Raphael to perk up from his spot on the sidelines. Raph was all too familiar with the expression, but rarely did she direct it at her dad; she was going to challenge him.

“Why not?” she demanded, hands on her hips. “Mai has hers pierced. Lots of the girls do.”

“I don’t care if their ears get torn up,” Saki replied impatiently. “Enough with this foolishness.”

“But…”

“Ready position, Karai!” Saki barked. “This is not the time or place for discussion.”

“This is the _only_ time and place I get to talk to you!” Karai cried out in exasperation before she could stop herself.

No one dared to move or make a sound. Raphael’s heart froze up in his chest and a cold sweat prickled down the back of his neck. He held his breath, sure he was about to witness Karai get a beating.

Saki stared her down furiously and she ceded to him, averting her eyes to the floor and awaiting punishment.

Instead, Saki waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing aside the tension in the air. “Don’t go easy on her. Either of you,” he warned her sparring partners.

“I’ll fight all four of them,” Karai blurted. She deftly retied her red bandana over her damp brow, leaving the loose ends to flow like two ribbons on either side of her ponytail. “If one of them takes this from me, I’ll never ask again. If they can’t, I can have earrings.”

“Very well.” Saki’s jaw clenched in irritation. “Whoever brings me that bandana will be _greatly_ rewarded. Begin!”

Raphael let out the breath he had been holding, his relief palpable. The four soldiers descended on her like a pack of wolves, eager to be the one to win their Master’s favor. Raphael toyed with his black wrist wrappings, pretending to look down at them to hide his grin. These guys had no idea what a highly motivated Karai was capable of.

Years of training against larger and heavier partners left her completely undaunted by the four Foot Clan members. Perfectly focused, she dodged and feinted between them, using her diminutive size and agility to stay a second ahead of them at all times. Utilizing mainly strikes to pressure points and judo-style throws, she defeated each of them in quick succession. They hadn’t even touched her bandana.

Saki’s twisted smile was genuine as Karai huffed to the soldiers at her feet, then looked him dead in the eye and said, “I’ll have the driver bring me to the city tomorrow.”


	23. Capture the Flag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place a few months after _Pierced_. Raphael is 10 and Karai is 11.

Raphael crawled through the thick underbrush with painstaking care, softening the crackle of dried leaves beneath his weight with slow, deliberate movements. About fifteen feet ahead in a small clearing, a long, ragged strip of black fabric billowed from a wooden post in the early evening breeze. General Taisho, who often planned these war games and took them quite seriously, guarded the flag. It was far too early in the game for Taisho to expect to be flanked by General Yinn's team and his back was turned, allowing Raphael to creep ever closer without detection. The quick-tempered shinobi was in his late forties and notorious for his lack of patience with the younger, less experienced teenagers of the Foot Clan, refusing to let any of them participate in his training events. As the youngest in the Clan, he looked upon Karai and Raphael's rank among them with particular disdain.

It had been Karai's idea to show the old grump what they were capable of, and Raphael's to beat him at his own game. This was the perfect opportunity, disrupting two teams of fifteen Soldiers as they played a ninja version of capture-the-flag out in the woods at dusk. The rules were simple; steal the opposing flag and bring it back 'home' before it was retrieved or returned. Falling to the ground or being struck by a modified weapon tagged a person out as 'dead' for the remainder of the evening. It was a great test of teamwork, stealth, combat and strategy, but none of the players had any idea that a five-person squad of mischief had conspired to bring some chaos to their night.

Karai's best female friend, Mai, had jumped on board immediately. Raphael liked Mai; she was out-going and fearless. She wasn't intimidated by Karai like most of the other girls, and hadn't shied away from making friends with a freak like him. She was currently perched high up in a tree, hidden away with her bow and a quiver full of harmless, rubber-tipped arrows.

Mai was good friends with Souta, who had a desperate crush on her and had agreed to join them before they had even finished asking. Raphael could admit that Souta had turned out to be a fairly decent guy, and he was Raphael's partner in crime to steal the black flag. Unfortunately, Souta's best friend happened to be Kaito, who had been sucking up to Karai since the day she'd smashed his face in, and it still rubbed Raphael the wrong way that she tolerated him at all.

Nonetheless, the five of them had become an odd circle of friends in recent months. Raphael and Kaito held onto a thinly veiled animosity for one another, and Raphael's lip curled up in distaste at the thought of him and Karai out in the woods alone, working together to steal the white flag. He'd kept his mouth shut when Kaito had instantly volunteered to go with Karai; whenever they started arguing or fighting the girls would ditch them, and the only thing Raphael and Kaito hated more than each other was listening to Souta whine about how their bickering had chased off Mai.

Raphael paused, staying perfectly still as a second black-clad ninja materialized out of the dim forest. This one had been scouting and was reporting in to Taisho that everyone was in position. Taking advantage of the distraction, Raphael bolted towards the pole and yanked the flag down, immediately sprinting away without looking back.

"Hey!" Taisho barked angrily at Raphael's retreating shell, then whistled sharply to warn his men.

The scout chased Raphael, only to be taken by surprise by Souta, who burst from his hiding spot and tapped the man on the chest with his wooden bokken.

"You little shit," he huffed incredulously, halting his pursuit and watching Souta flee with the turtle.

Distant shouts drifted through the trees up ahead of the fleeing boys as they headed to their rendezvous point. A Soldier tried to intercept them, her bokken drawn. Raphael charged towards her, his hand going to the hilt of his own wooden sword as if to engage her, then slid low across the loose soil to knock her feet out from under her. She landed on her butt in the dirt and debris, scoffing as Raphael grinned and fist-bumped Souta before disappearing into the bush.

Karai came choppily into view to the far right as she dashed between trees, followed closely by Kaito, who trailed a long white strip of cloth behind him. Raphael and Souta dove into a deep thicket, crouching low as they overheard a struggle between Karai and a Soldier which allowed Kaito to slip into their hiding spot with his prize undetected. Raphael was relieved as Karai crawled under the prickly branches to their temporary haven with a huge smile on her face a few moments later.

" _Yesss_ ," she hissed in a whisper. "We got them both!"

They broke cover after catching their breath, purposely laughing out loud as they thundered onto a dirt trail. Sprinting down the straightaway, they managed to lure a small following of ninja onto the open path and into their ambush. Arrows whizzed over Raphael's head, and he grinned as he heard the yelps and curses of the Soldiers behind him getting hit with the rubber-tipped arrows. Souta veered left to help Mai, providing a distraction for the Soldiers now closing in on her hiding place and giving her a chance to climb down from the tree.

Karai, Raphael and Kaito went right, sliding precariously down a muddy hill to the bank of a small, fast-flowing stream. Without hesitation, they skipped over the surface of the water, across the slick stones with practiced ease. There was some splashing and shouting behind them as a few Soldiers slipped, getting soaked to the knees in the cold current. Mai and Souta had been captured and reprimanded by General Yinn, and the remaining players on both teams quickly organized themselves and dashed over the rocks.

As the sky darkened to indigo, visibility in the forest became increasingly vague. Raphael, having the best night vision between the three of them, led the way as quickly as possible, weaving between trees and bushes in an attempt to shake their pursuers. Though unseen, all around the trio echoed the eerie sounds of snapping twigs, whistles, and the various bird-calls the Soldiers used to signal and communicate with one another as they closed in on their quarry.

                                      **ooooooooooooooooo**

Oroku Saki had chosen that evening to walk through the estate gardens, curious to know the outcome of the training simulation between Generals Taisho and Yinn. The sounds of mock battle seemed close, much too close to be out in the predetermined area, far beyond the manicured lawns, flowerbeds and lazy fireflies that floated about. His body tensed in preparation of an attack as figures burst from the treeline and headed in his direction.

With great effort, Saki composed his features and stood stoically as his daughter, the mutant, and their friend charged up the lawn as if the hounds of hell were on their heels. The panting trio was caked in mud to mid-thigh, their eyes going wide as they realized who it was they were rushing into. Each of the boys had a flag wrapped tightly around one fist, and all three almost careened into one another as Saki gestured with an angry jerk of his chin that they had better keep running. They wisely made a dash for the nearest entrance of the estate, no doubt to the eventual horror of the housekeeper.

Taisho, proud warrior and a General of the Foot Clan, was not far behind them and set his sights on Saki, slowing to an angry march as the kids made their getaway.

Saki was determined to quell the coming outburst before it even began. He was already getting grief over a recent incident in which Karai had cut the hot water to the men's shower room after overhearing a sexist comment in the dojo, and he was in no mood for further nonsense.

"Master, with all due respect," Taisho blustered, his face red, "your daughter and that turtle creature cannot be allowed to run amok any longer. They have sabotaged our entire training exercise this evening!"

Saki looked down at him sternly. "Are you telling me that a few kids got past thirty trained shinobi under _your command_ because you weren't prepared for any interferences?"

Taisho stiffened visibly. "No..." he answered carefully.

"You had better not," Saki snapped. "Dismissed." He sighed as his General hurried off like a scolded dog, equally torn between irritation and pride.


	24. Coronation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place about five months after _Capture the Flag_. Karai has reached the age of Initiation, and Shredder's true plans for both her and Raphael are revealed. Raphael is 11 and Karai is 12.

His entire childhood had been spent in anticipation of this day, training alongside Karai for his eventual Initiation into the Foot. That Raphael had been given special exception as Shredder's mutant powerhouse to take his vows a year early with Karai on her twelfth birthday made it all the more surreal, now that the occasion was finally upon him. He waited alone outside the massive wooden doors of the main hall, too nervous to peek inside at the gathering.

Fiddling with the unpolished metal loop of his new black cloak, he centered it against his upper plastron and admired such attention to detail on Saki's part. The dull metal would not reflect light and give away his position in the field, and the heavy fabric of the cloak itself had a small split between his shoulders that would allow him unobstructed access to any weapons strapped to his shell.

He perked up as Karai's voice approached, echoing protests against her attendants preening her any further. She turned the corner of the hallway looking irate and warding off the hand of an unseen assailant holding a hairbrush. She wore a luxurious black and gold silk furisode, a ceremonial ankle-length kimono with sleeves that flowed to the floor, traditionally worn by upper-class girls and young women on special occasions. Her long, dark hair had been crafted into an elegant up-do, a golden hairpiece in the Foot's typical symbol for fire seeming to hold it all together. A smile lit up her face as she approached him, features exaggerated with carefully applied makeup.

She was absolutely stunning.

"You look like a real princess," Raphael managed to breath out in awe.

"Shut up!" Karai said under her breath, slapping him playfully on the arm as if he'd uttered a profanity.

The heavy door creaked open and they both stood at attention for Ryota-Sensei.

"I am proud to have been part of your training," Ryota said softly, one hand on each of their shoulders in a rare display of sentimentality. "It's time."

Raphael dutifully followed Ryota into the expansive room where banners with alternating Foot and Fire emblems hung languidly from the walls. A red carpet parted the huge crowd of people, more humans than Raphael had ever seen in one place before. Of course this wasn't an average Initiation; Shredder was to officially name Karai heir of the Foot Clan, and a banquet was prepared for afterward in honor of her title and birthday. Everyone was dressed formally, many in more traditional garb, others in suits or dresses.

The corner of Raphael's lip quirked up at the sight of Yumi, who still occasionally came by to make sure they were keeping up with their English. Black dominated the gathering, but she wore a pale yellow Lolita dress with white lace trim, a ray of sunshine in the dark. Next to her stood Mai, looking lovely in a red kimono. Souta had latched onto her hand and was in all his glory, while Kaito stared open-jawed at the vision Karai had become.

Ryota stepped aside, leaving Raphael and Karai side-by-side in the tall shadow of the Shredder. They bowed down to him completely, their foreheads mere inches from the ground. In unison they recited the words that had been uttered by generations of Initiates.

"We vow our allegiance to the Shredder, and humbly offer ourselves into the service of the Foot Clan."

"As the reigning Shredder, I offer you a place among the Foot Clan, now the last major House of Ninjitsu. The skills and secrets of our Masters are yours to learn for the purposes of furthering the influence of the Foot, and eradicating all who stand in our way."

"Your enemies are our enemies, Master," they chimed in together.

"A strike against a fellow Foot warrior is a strike against me. Betrayal within the Clan will not be tolerated," he warned, "but your loyalty and obedience will be richly rewarded."

"Your will is our will, Master."

"Stand before me now, as true Soldiers of the Foot Clan."

Raphael rose to his feet next to Karai, his hand gently supporting her elbow as she fumbled with the never ending satins of her furisode.

Saki paused, seeming to consider his words carefully before continuing. "Through much hardship and sacrifice, I have reclaimed my birthright and rebuilt in honor of my father, Oroku Maji, and in honor of all those slain by the Hamato Clan so many years ago." Plucking a wakizashi from a table behind him, Saki knelt down on one knee before Karai and presented it to her. "Oroku Karai, I name you as the heir to my empire. When I am no longer able, you will become the next Shredder and leader of the Foot Clan. You are ready to stand by side, daughter, and I have much to teach you."

"Yes, father," Karai whispered reverently as she took her short sword, a fine blade sheathed in cherrywood.

"Now you may keep your enemies as close as you like," he said quietly, a trace of amusement in his voice as he referred to her preference for fighting within her opponents range.

Raphael was so intent on watching Karai receive her gift and title that his eyes widened in surprise when Shredder likewise knelt in front of him. He held out a full sized katana in a smooth black scabbard, it's hilt decorated with an entwined red and black wrap.

"Raphael," Saki said solemnly. The entire hall fell into utter silence. "When I am no longer able, you will share the mantle of Shredder and leader of the Foot Clan with Karai. You are to go and train under the Master which I have trained under. You will return to me as one of my Elite, and together, you will be unstoppable."

Raphael reached out shakily for his katana in disbelief. "Yes, Master."

 _Raphael_. The name had rolled smoothly off of Saki's tongue to the mutant's ears for the very first time like an incantation. Adrenaline rushed through Raphael's system as it sunk in. He had just been appointed the same rank as Karai. He was going to train to be the next Shredder, not just some Soldier or bodyguard. Not only did he finally belong to the Foot Clan, it belonged to _him_.


	25. History

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael and Karai are separated to take their own journeys as they are indoctrinated wholly into the Foot Clan. Takes place the day after _Coronation_. Raphael is 11 and Karai is 12.

There was a drawn-out sense of deja-vu to being on the road, to watching the miles drop away from all he had become accustomed to. Except that the last time Raphael had journeyed into the unknown, Karai had been there for him to ease the transition. This time he was alone in the backseat of a sleek black sedan with tinted windows and seats upholstered in fine gray leather. Up front the chauffeur sped through the countryside, humming along to a current pop song that grated on Raphael's nerves.

Nearly six hours in transit had given him a lot of time to think. Raphael had done everything Saki had ever asked him to, perhaps even exceeded expectations, and had been given the highest reward possible. It also put an unexpected weight on his shoulders. His responsibilities to the Clan had just multiplied exponentially, and in ways his eleven year old mind could not quite pin down. Already, he was afraid of failing.

His mind kept straying to the party the night before, the banquet thrown in his and Karai's honor after their ceremony. Raphael had let himself get swept up in the celebration, in the grandeur and fine foods, in the congratulations and well-wishes of the few people close to him. As the rush of excitement wore off, he began to slowly melt into the background and observe the gathering, watching and listening while Karai mingled seamlessly with the guests. Raphael quickly realized that many people were not happy with the idea of being ruled by a mutant Shredder, even with Karai as his partner.

He was informed that all was set for his trip to the village and that he would be leaving in the morning. Raphael hadn't told Karai until the end of the night and she had looked stricken. She tried to convince her father to let her go as well, that she should also have training with the Elite, but Saki insisted on training her personally. She had hugged Raphael fiercely and made him promise to visit her, and to train hard so he could come home as soon as possible. He had promised her all of those things, but already felt the despair of knowing he wouldn't be visiting any time soon. The distance was too great and he could not travel freely on his own.

Raphael knew that ultimately Karai would be fine without him. She was strong, confident, and beloved by the Foot Clan. He had mixed feelings on this because he wanted her to be okay, but he wasn't sure how well he was going to fare without her; she had always been the buffer between him and the human world. The thought of her not needing him in return, while admittedly selfish, was nonetheless disheartening.

"This is your stop," the chauffeur announced, jarring Raphael from his thoughts.

Happy to flee the confines of the car and stretch his limbs, he got out and surveyed his surroundings. The road had turned to dirt and gravel after passing through a small farming village, and all around them were fields of budding crops. The sweeping mountainous landscapes were undeniably beautiful, and the air was fresh and crisp in Raphael's lungs. The only other person in sight was an old man sitting in an open horse-drawn wagon that clattered up the uneven road to meet them.

"I can take it from here," the man called down to the driver, dismissing him before turning his attention to his newest pupil. "Raphael, I presume. Let me take a look at you," he said, his striking brown eyes appraising the turtle unabashedly.

"I must say, I've heard a lot about you over the past few years, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of you," he cackled. "You're a bit scrawny in the arms and legs but you look strong enough. I'm Tatsuo Takeshi. Come on up here next to me."

Raphael approached cautiously as the graying black nag of a horse snorted and bobbed his head, ears pinned flat.

"You are the Master's uncle?" Raphael asked, feeling somewhat awed.

"Indeed, I am."

Remembering his manners, Raphael bowed before scrambling up onto the wooden seat. "It is an honor to meet you, Master Tatsuo."

"Likewise, young turtle," he replied, then shifted the reins and clucked to his horse. The wagon lurched forward and Takeshi laughed as Raphael grabbed hold of the side rail nervously to keep his balance. As the wagon bumped and rattled along noisily, Raphael couldn't help sneaking glances over at the frail looking Takeshi. The man was a legend.

"Spit it out, boy."

Raphael started, embarrassed that he'd been caught staring. "May I ask," he started tentatively, "how you and Master Shredder ever found one another?"

"Oh, I always knew he was alive," Takeshi replied with a wave of a wrinkled hand. "I watched that treacherous asshole Hamato Youta pick Saki up while his father's blood was still wet on his hands," he spat.

"I'm sorry," Raphael apologized sincerely. "I didn't realize; I didn't mean to bring up such a bad memory. I thought you met much later on."

"No, it's okay, you should know our history. Saki doesn't speak of it much beyond his own experience with the Hamato Clan and the loss of Tang Shen. Terrible, the way it ended between them," Takeshi said. "He brought her here a few times when he was still training. She was not a warrior, but she was spirited and reminded me of my wife, Oroku Aiko." He paused, the ghost of a smile on his lips as he lost himself in some old memory. The smile disappeared abruptly as Takeshi shook it off. "Aiko was beautiful and fierce. There was nothing in this world I wouldn't have done for her, or for the son I was never able to meet," he said wistfully.

Though it had to be close to forty years ago, there was still a deep sadness in Takeshi's voice that lit a fire deep in Raphael's chest. He remained silent, at a loss for words in the face of such tragedy.

Takeshi's haunted gaze seemed focused somewhere much father afield than the path they were traveling for a few moments, but he cleared his throat and continued. "I was gravely injured and assumed dead, but I was taken to a hospital under a false name. When I had recovered enough, I retreated here to avoid being hunted down. When I discovered Oroku Saki was being raised as a Hamato, I knew that I had survived for a purpose. I made preparations and hid Saki's inheritance until he was eighteen, then made contact to break the truth of his heritage to him."

"You gathered the deeds to the lands owned by the main families of the Foot Clan, right?" Raphael asked. He had heard vague talk of such from Saki before, that the estate was built upon the land of his ancestors where the very village they had been slaughtered used to stand.

Takeshi shook his head and glanced over at Raphael wryly. "It was never about the land and wealth of his family, though it did rightfully belong to Saki. No, I risked my life to reacquire his true inheritance, and I made him earn it. For sixteen years I hid the Kuro Kabuto in my shrine. I returned it to him when he completed his training with me, the very night he destroyed the Hamato Clan and finally took his place as the leader of the Foot."

Raphael's resolve faltered, and he thought that maybe he understood now why some were opposed to him being next in line. He was just a freak that had lived a life of luxury, taken in on a random twist of fate with no connection to the roots of the Foot Clan. "Master Tatsuo, how will I ever become worthy of being the next Shredder?" he asked, daunted.

"You will complete the tasks and training I lay out for you, Raphael," Takeshi answered with a mostly toothless smile and a glint in his eye, "or you will die trying. That's how."


	26. Horsemanship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael tries to adjust to his new surroundings and responsibilities. Takes place a couple of weeks after _History_. Raphael is 11.

Raphael wasn't sure what he had subconsciously been expecting from the top secret training camp for the Foot's Elite, but the humble farm Takeshi brought him to via horse and wagon was definitely not it. The wooden farmhouse was very simple, long and rectangular with a small porch that overlooked a dilapidated barn and fenced paddock. Just inside was a kitchen, fireplace and common area with ancient mismatched chairs and a couch, followed by a narrow hall with small partitioned bedrooms on either side, three larger ones on the left and four small ones to the right.

He had been prepared for hard training and long, exhausting days, and Takeshi pushed him daily to his limits and beyond for the next two weeks, assessing his athleticism, endurance, fighting prowess, weapons skill and mental fortitude. Raphael had also known he was going to be the object of gossip and conjecture among the seven other men who currently resided there besides Takeshi, and had steeled himself for the narrowed eyes and distrustful expressions that were a normal part of meeting new humans. As was his way, Raphael didn't speak unless necessary and kept his face impassive around them.

There were many things, however, that Raphael had decidedly _not_ been prepared for. There was no indoor plumbing or electricity. The farmhouse lacked a dojo of any kind; all training was done outdoors. His room was barely large enough to accommodate a small, two-drawer dresser and a single bed. The bed itself was a thin futon that rested on the floor and could be rolled up if desired, but it offered no support to his awkward body shape, leaving him stiff and sore each morning. It made him all the more homesick for the luxury of the estate, compounded almost intolerably by his isolation and longing for Karai's company.

_And it had only been two weeks..._

Takeshi praised Raphael for his hard work and said he was ready to become one of his pupils and a part of the Elite camp. That also meant he felt that Raphael was acclimated enough to take on his share of the farm chores, and every newcomer was delegated the care and upkeep of Takeshi's horse. Raphael's face must have paled at the news, because Takeshi had laughed and then cackled, "Horsemanship is still one of the eighteen disciplines of ninjitsu."

It was an honor he would be taking over from Ryuu, the young man who lead him to the paddock to show Raphael where everything was and give him the general rundown of daily and weekly horse-related tasks. Ryuu wasn't much taller than Raphael, but built like a small tank. He seemed happy to be passing off this responsibility, and went on at length about how he wanted to learn how to work the forge with Katsu and make his own weapons. It was the first time since Raphael had arrived that he had been alone with someone other than Takeshi, and watched mutely as Ryuu prattled casually to him without any sign of animosity or disgust.

Ryuu changed subjects almost mid-sentence as he pointed out the wheelbarrow and pitchfork. "The manure pile is straight back behind the paddock," he said, gesturing to a path leading into the bordering treeline. "Next time we need to go to the market, I'll show you how to hitch him to the wagon. It takes a bit of practice. Any questions?"

Raphael looked over to the black horse grazing in the field, ignoring them. He had a fierce reputation, but was old and didn't look like he had much fight in him. "What's his name?"

Ryuu chuckled, thinking of all the colorful nicknames the stallion had earned in the past. "Mezu," he answered instead.

Raphael groaned and rolled his eyes. "Mezu? The Horse-Faced demon? How original."

Ryuu shrugged and grinned. "It suits him. If you aren't careful, he will happily escort you directly to Hell."

Raphael snorted and navigated the wheelbarrow into the paddock while trying to balance the pitchfork in it and over one shoulder, then got to work cleaning up the piles left behind in the run-in stall and surrounding field. Ryuu sat himself up on the old wooden fencing to keep an eye out, making Raphael feel a bit self-conscious.

"You don't have to stay," Raphael said, trying to figure out the best way to handle the pitchfork without losing everything he was scooping up.

"I'm supposed to," Ryuu said, his eyes wandering to Mezu, still grazing complacently despite having someone in his field.

Raphael didn't warrant any attention until he hauled in a new bale of hay. The horse trotted directly up to him without slowing, as if to bowl him over and help himself to the fresh hay before Raphael could place it in the stall's trough.

"Whoa, whoa!" Raphael called, squaring his shoulders towards the incoming beast and trying to look big enough not to trample. Ryuu hopped off the fence but Raphael put a hand up to tell him not to advance when Mezu stopped a few feet in front of him, neck arched and nostrils flaring.

Takeshi had found him sixteen years ago, injured and tied to the side of a country road, left to die. Despite being bad-tempered and aggressive, the stallion was nursed back to health by Takeshi himself, and though impossible to ride, he could be bribed to pull a wagon.

Raphael had no experience with horses, but he had always had a good rapport with animals. Even wild creatures had no fear of him as long as he was quiet and still. Mezu glared at him, puzzled, and pawed the ground. His black coat was mottled with gray, and in places white fur had grown back over scars on his legs and haunches. Raphael spoke soothingly as he started backing up, feeling like they had come to something of an understanding as the horse's muscles started to relax. Bale in hand, Raphael turned away and headed back to the hay trough.

Mezu spun abruptly and booted him in the shell, sending him flying face-first into the dirt. Raphael heard hooves stomp down far too close to his head and rolled away in a panic. Letting out a high-pitched whinny of agitation, Mezu aggressively swiped a mouthful of hay from the dropped bale, threatening another kick with his hind leg and lashing his tail.

Ryuu grabbed Raphael by the wrist and dragged him out of harms way until he was able to stumble to his own feet again. Once safely over the fence, Raphael cussed under his breath as he ran a fingertip blindly across the tender scute on his shell, following the shallow, curved dent at the point of impact.

"Told you he was crazy," Ryuu laughed. He clapped the shaken turtle on the shoulder and smiled sheepishly. "Don't worry, he still gets all of us now and then."

"Thanks," Raphael grumbled unhappily, trying not to look as embarrassed as he felt. "Some ninja training this is," he scoffed with a half-smile, wiping dirt from his face with his forearm.

"It only gets harder, trust me."

"How long have you been here?" Raphael asked curiously, deciding to take advantage of Ryuu's amiable mood.

"Seven months," he replied, taking notice of the way Raphael's face fell at his answer. "What?"

"I was hoping I would be home again after seven months," he said, his heart sinking.

Ryuu studied the crestfallen mutant for a moment before asking, "How old are you?"

"Why?" Raphael countered, feeling defensive suddenly.

"I want to know if I'm still the youngest one here," he said with a shrug.

"How old are _you_?" Raphael shot back.

"Sixteen."

"Me too," he lied.

"It's impossible to tell by looking at you." Ryuu cocked his head to the left, looking undecided for a minute before prying a little more. "What are you? The others say you must be at least half kappa," he said, leaving out the more unsavory speculations on how a pairing between a human and an ugly water sprite might have happened.

"I'm not a kappa," he insisted firmly, arms crossed over his chest in annoyance. "Something happened to me when I was a baby," he said, his temples starting to throb as he tried to recall the details of the story he was told so long ago. "I was mutated. Master Shredder found me in New York and brought me here."

"You're American?" Ryuu barked out with a surprised laugh. "I'd stick with kappa around here."

Raphael stared back at him dryly, wondering if he'd managed to make his first friend without Karai.


	27. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone needs to cut loose and relax once in while, even the most hardened of ninja. Takes place about fourteen months after _Horsemanship_. Raphael is 12, but the men think he’s 17.

Delicate tendrils of flame licked up and around the nest of kindling Raphael had arranged over the hot embers of the fire pit. Carefully he added larger bits of wood, coaxing the tiny blaze into a proper bonfire. The early summer sun hung low in the sky, not quite ready to sink below the mountain ridge and give way to night. Taking the opportunity to enjoy his brief solitude, Raphael settled himself by the fire and watched the orange flames flicker and dance hypnotically, tuning out the laughter of the men who had already started on the newest supply of sake. It was going on Raphael’s second summer at this place, and he wondered for what seemed like the millionth time when Master Shredder would finally call him home.

As the months had passed, Raphael came to realize that the focus of the training here was endurance, not combat. It was a given that they were all talented fighters, otherwise they would have never been selected for this special unit. What made them Elite was their personal journey to discover their inner strength, resourcefulness, and ability to weather the harshest conditions while still thriving. They had to become unbreakable, mentally and physically. Nothing came easily in their daily lives. There were no amenities. Every meal had to be hunted or harvested, their water had to be brought up from a well, there was a never-ending demand for chopped wood to fuel the fireplace and stove, and there was a long list of daily chores. They trained outdoors in every type of weather, pushing themselves beyond their limits repeatedly until they became hardened to pain and discomfort. How Tatsuo Takeshi managed to live in such a place year-round at his age was truly a testament to the old man’s legendary toughness.

The strong odor of garlic invaded Raphael’s nostrils as two sets of footsteps approached from behind. His face crinkled in distaste, then he exclaimed in surprise as a bushel of garlic cloves wrapped in netting landed on his lap.

“Compliments of Mr Niaga,” Ryuu laughed, catching the bundle with one hand as Raphael flung it back at his face.

Ryuu was accompanied by Ren, a tech-savy ninja in his twenties. He was already called upon for missions on a regular basis, and his specialty was hacking and disabling high level security systems.

Ren rolled his eyes at their antics, then to Raphael said, “You should go into town next time, we always get more free stuff when you go.”

“Mr Niaga also requests that you find a man to marry his daughter,” added Ryuu, still grinning.

Raphael scoffed and looked around for the closest person to them, who happened to be another young man by the name of Ichiro, a natural born farmer who was already a fully trained Elite that came to live here periodically when he wasn’t needed in the city.

“Hey, Ichiro,” Raphael called, “want to marry Niaga’s daughter?”

Ichiro tipped a bottle of sake up to his lips and smiled. “My heart belongs to another, Raphael. My sweet, virtuous Mika, I’m going to make a wife of her one day,” he hummed happily.

“Virtuous,” Ren snickered, earning a red-hot glare from Ichiro.

Raphael shrugged. “I tried.”

Maybe people would eventually stop thinking he was some sort of magical genie. Raphael’s unique appearance didn’t exclude him from the expectation of doing his part in traveling to the nearest market to trade and buy supplies. His first visit had left the villagers speechless, and only one person had been bold enough to interact with him. A little girl had thrust a bundle of fresh tea leaves at him, asked if he could break the rain shortage that was beginning to wilt her father’s crops, then ran away. Damned if it didn’t pour for three days straight afterward, making him a celebrity. Whenever he went to the village, people made offerings to him in the way of teas, food and herbs for good luck or special requests.

Hiroki, a usually humble and soft-spoken man, had already emptied half a bottle of sake by the time he reached the fire. Emboldened by drink, he enthusiastically joined in the raucous conversation between Ren, Ryuu and Ichiro that Raphael was trying to ignore with reddened cheeks. Somehow their conversation had gone from the ‘virtues’ of Ichiro’s girlfriend to everyone’s favorite pleasure girl for hire in the nearest town. Sometimes they would drag Raphael into these conversations in jest, and though they meant no harm, he found it painfully awkward. Thankfully, he managed to escape notice on this occasion, as the guys reeled it in with the arrival of Master Tatsuo and his second in command, Jiro.

Jiro towered at least a head above everyone else and had a lean, fit frame that would be the envy of anyone pushing forty. He helped Takeshi run the farm, keep tabs on the men, acted as their field medic and directed most of their survivalist training. His main goal was to teach them all how to live in the wild with the least disruption to their surroundings; a skilled ninja had to be able to blend in and become one with their environment, to disappear without a trace like a ghost.

Many of them were to embark on one of his wilderness survival exercises in the morning. Raphael, Ryuu, Ichiro, Ren, Hiroki and the 'newbie’, Tsuneo, would be dropped off at separate remote locations and were not to return to the farmhouse for exactly five days. They could provide food and shelter for themselves however they saw fit, with the catch that Jiro and his partner, Katsu, would be hunting them down at random intervals over those five days. If they were easy to track and discover, their pursual would be potentially relentless, and they would have to either fight or flee no matter how tired, hungry, cold or wet they might be.

Katsu finally joined the group, still shirtless and sweating from working the forge in the balmy early evening hours. He had a passion for all things bladed, and created numerous weapons with a practiced hand. Some katanas and tantos were dulled and sold in bulk at the market, where they would eventually find themselves offered for sale as souvenirs in the nearby cities of Koka and Iga, the famed birthplace of ninjitsu turned tourist trap. Others were for training or Foot Clan commissions. Katsu had more scars than most, and his broad, bared chest and back showed off the majority of them. He also sported a bald head, a scar straight down the left side of his face, and the white fire symbol on his shoulder where he been branded years ago upon joining the Elite.

“Hey, Newbie!” Katsu hollered upon finding him the only one missing in the group. “Bring the rest of the sake!”

This sparked a round of cheers, bottles clanking between Katsu, Hiroki and Ichiro as Tsuneo sullenly hauled the crate with the rest of the bottles to the fire.

“It’s Tsuneo,” he pointed out crossly, taking a bottle for himself.

Raphael watched him take a swig of the liquor and grimace, suspecting Tsuneo was only imbibing in hopes of social acceptance. He’d had a difficult first couple of months, and Raphael would almost feel bad for him if the guy wasn’t inherently kind of a jerk.

Directly upon his arrival, Tsuneo had taken one look at Raphael and blurted, “What the fuck are you?”

Ryuu had laughed and leaned an elbow on Raphael’s shoulder. “You must be brand new if you’ve never heard of the kappa Master Shredder himself trained.”

Tsuneo, who was indeed new to the Foot Clan, had hissed angrily, “Well obviously I thought it was all bullshit.”

This had incited a deep, whooping laughter from Raphael, which had proved contagious to all the others as the men clapped Raphael on the shell through gusts of breath and cemented Tsuneo’s fate to be renamed Newbie.

And Newbie had despised Raphael ever since.

Hiroki tried to push off a bottle of sake to Raphael and Ryuu, who both declined.

“I don’t know how you can drink that shit the night before we get dumped out into the middle of nowhere,” Ryuu said.

“Ah, come now, the sun is set, it’s time for the kids to go to bed,” joked Katsu.

Hiroki nudged Raphael with an elbow. “At least we all know who to raid if we want fish.”

“How do you know I’ll have any?” Raphael retorted.

“You always have fish. It’s all you ever bring back when we hunt,” complained Ren.

“You don’t have to eat it,” Raphael grumbled. “It’s not like I’m eating the game you bring in.”

“So fierce,” Tsuneo quipped, seeing an opportunity to take a jab. “Supposedly strong enough to crush a man’s skull with one hand, but you can’t put an arrow in a bunny.”

“I’ll put an arrow in your ass if you raid my camp,” Raphael snapped back, much to the amusement of the others.

Tsuneo quieted down and nursed his bottle of sake for the rest of the night, while everyone else had the good sense to take this rare chance to kick back and enjoy themselves. Mostly they bragged about their prowess in battle and were full of mock challenges, bravado and crude banter.

The night came to an abrupt end when Ichiro drained the last of his booze, stood up, and announced with a slur, “I’m gonna go ride that fuckin’ horse.”

“Woah, there country boy, you know you can’t ride Mezu,” cautioned Jiro.

Ichiro waved him off, not convinced. “I rode 'im for thirty seconds that one time.”

“I rode your mom longer than that last night,” Ren sputtered.

The eruption of laughter around the fire only increased when Ichiro staggered off towards the paddock while flipping them all off, obviously forgetting that he’d also ended up with a dislocated shoulder last time.

“Who’s turn is it to knock that damned fool out and put him to bed?” Master Tatsuo asked wearily.

“Mine…” Raphael sighed, stalking after Ichiro in the darkness.


	28. Hit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some lines in life that cannot be uncrossed. Takes place about ten months after _Fire_. Raphael is 13, but the men think he’s 18.

Security detail for a formal charity fundraiser at the Saki Estate had been Raphael’s first mission, a simple task for a budding rookie. As a child, he’d had no idea that all special occasions held at the manor, legitimate or otherwise, were guarded by the Elite. He was part of a six-man team and each of them had a portion of the property to patrol independently. Anyone found on the outskirts or within the woods were to be captured, and if they put up a fight, executed. Such an occurrence was exceedingly rare, but with the recent deterioration of the treaty between the Foot and the Yakuza, Master Shredder was taking no chances.

The manor itself hadn’t stirred much emotion from Raphael, besides a fleeting want for the luxuries and comforts it contained. It wasn’t until he had seen Karai that he’d felt his homesickness return with a heart-crushing weight, and it struck him that it was _her_ he found synonymous with home, not the building. It had taken all of his strength not to contact her, to stay hidden away, to breathe through the tightness in his own throat.

They were supposed to be invisible, especially Raphael. It was a special function for polite company, a way to ingratiate Oroku Saki to the public and placate the community. He never even should have gotten _that_ close, perched in the shadows of a tall tree, motionless as he had watched the gathering in the courtyard from afar.

Even from such a distance he could tell Karai had grown much taller in the past two years, and at some point she had cut her hair just above her shoulders. She was at her father’s side the entire time, both weaving easily through the crowd with the same gracefully commanding gait, stopping here and there to speak to guests. Raphael had finally torn himself away and patrolled the woods listlessly without incident, wishing he had never checked up on Karai in the first place.

Raphael had returned to the farm feeling inexplicably broken. His temper, kept in check the past couple of years by sheer exhaustion, had roared back to life. There had never been a shortage of opportunities to spar or pick a fight, but Raphael pursued confrontation with an edge of hostility the others hadn’t seen before. The men only encouraged him further. They were a brotherhood of warriors and at last Raphael was coming into his own, hardened and molded by his time among them into a living weapon.

His next mission had been strictly espionage, shadowing Ichiro to uncover anything on an up-and-coming politician that could be used to keep her in the Foot Clan’s pocket. Besides his proficiency with sai and creating poisons, stealth was Ichiro’s specialty. If anyone was going to successfully have a man-sized turtle tag along on a spy mission that involved breaking and entering into a public office, it was him. Under Ichiro’s wing, Raphael learned how to stay concealed in urban environments.

Each mission had felt like a test, but none more so than his current one. Katsu, scarred forge-master, partner of Tatsuo Takeshi’s second-hand man Jiro, and one of the top assassins in the Elite, was shadowing _him_ tonight. Raphael was the lead; it was his target, his set up and his hit.

“Don’t hesitate. You will only get one shot,” Katsu warned quietly from behind. His voice held the cold insinuation of dire consequences for Raphael should he have to step in.

The door to the restaurant Raphael was watching from a nearby rooftop swung open and he tensed automatically. Two women laughed and tottered on high heels as they hailed a taxi, their dresses billowing up slightly in the April breeze and setting them off into a fit of giggles. They didn’t notice him; no one walking by on the streets below did. He took a long deep breath to try and settle his nerves, mentally checking his position once again to make sure he wouldn’t cut a silhouette against the night sky when he came out of his crouch.

_“Breathe, Raphael-san.”_

The memory of Mai’s voice came back to him. Being the daughter of one of the top archers in the world, she had been better with a bow than most, even at fourteen, and had happily given Karai and Raphael extra coaching on her own time.

Taking a deep breath, he wiped the sweat from his palms onto his cloak before picking up his bow.

_Mai’s hand gently rested on his elbow, guiding his arm into position to aim properly for a long-range shot._

On the street below, a limousine pulled up and parked outside the posh restaurant.

Raphael ignored the cramps in his thighs from crouching motionless for the better part of the last half an hour. He forced himself to breathe steadily, calming the shaking in his hands. Carefully, he nocked a poison-tipped arrow into his bow.

_“Line up with your target and be still.”_

The door opened and his mark left the building accompanied by two other men in formal suits.

Raphael had no idea what this man had done to make such enemies, but in the end it didn’t matter. Takeshi, and the Shredder by extension, had to know that he could follow orders and complete any task that was required of him before he would be allowed to return to Karai’s side. More importantly, his mark was a threat in some way to the Foot and its members, and Raphael had to protect his Clan.

_Breathe in._

The three men walked out from under the decorative awning at the front entrance, heading to their limo.

Raphael assumed his shooting stance and pulled back the bowstring until his hand touched his chin. Still as a statue, he took aim and waited for his shot. Though it only took seconds for them to cross the paved walkway to the street, time seemed to slow.

_Breathe out._

His mark stepped ahead ever so slightly, his head turned toward the associate on his left as they spoke, exposing his neck. Raphael released the arrow, the movement almost imperceptible.

An instant later the rooftop was barren as he and Katsu disappeared into the night.

_“Bullseye!” Mai had cried happily when Raphael hit the center of the wooden target._

His heart had never been so heavy back then.


	29. Stitched

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a dirty job, but someone’s got to do it. Takes place about four months after _Hit_. Raphael is 13, but the men think he’s 18.

Gripping the curved needle he had just sanitized with a pair of medical pliers, Raphael gingerly punctured the swollen flesh on Ryuu’s shoulder blade, trying his best to keep the circular motion of the needle smooth and swift as Ryuu flinched and hissed through his teeth. Raphael’s fingers were too thick to tie the thread of the stitch, but with a pair of pliers in each hand, he managed to knot the first suture.

“Quit moving, this hard enough already,” Raphael grumbled.

Ryuu unclenched his jaw and looked over his shoulder from the rickety chair he straddled. “How many more do you think I’ll need?”

Raphael assessed the cut, using some damp gauze to clean away the blood that had seeped from the wound. “At least three more.”

Groaning in resignation, Ryuu buried his face in his palm and let out a stream of expletives as the needle dug in once more.

Raphael rolled his eyes. They all sparred with live blades, and getting cut and stitched up now and again was a part of life. Not to mention the fact that Ryuu had been clipped by Tsuneo’s kusurigama in training and hadn’t whined half as much about the gash itself as he was now about the stitches.

Raphael tied the second suture and frowned at his sloppy handiwork. “You know it’s going to leave a horrible scar, right?” he asked. “I’m the worst person to come to for this kind of shit. You should have gone to Jiro.”

“No way in hell,” Ryuu retorted. “Jiro and Katsu got into some sort of argument this morning and I have zero interest in asking him to stitch me up when he’s in the middle of a lover’s spat. Those guys are fucking terrifying when they’re pissed.”

Raphael snorted; Ryuu was just as deadly, albeit twenty years their junior. He had a point, though. The tension in such a small place was insufferable on the rare occasions that Katsu and Jiro had it out, and no one wanted to risk being on the receiving end of their subsequently short tempers.

At least he and Ryuu were now senior trainees, having been residents at the farm for a few years. There were about thirty active members of the Elite, and all of them had done their time at Takeshi’s farm in the beginning. Raphael and Ryuu had reached the point where they still technically lived there, but were absent for longer stretches of time in other towns and cities, stashed away in hotels or safe houses on missions. They were being trusted with more and more tasks as they proved their loyalty, while Master Shredder figured out what niche of the Foot Clan’s business they would eventually be best suited for.

“Ow! Son of a bitch,” Ryuu barked, jerking forward.

“Shut up, ya wuss, I’m done,” Raphael carped. “If you pop a stitch, you’re on your own. I’m leaving tomorrow for a few weeks.”

Ryuu got up and leaned against the porch railing, watching Mezu graze in his paddock in the distance. “Do you know what you’re going to be doing yet?”

“Interrogations, likely,” he sighed. “It seems to have become my specialty. Would be great if Master Shredder saw me as more than a living lie detector.”

Raphael’s thoughts became dark as he used a wet rag to clean his friend’s blood from his hands.

His heightened senses gave him the ability to know when someone was lying through subtle changes in their scent, voice and pulse with startling accuracy. It had mostly been a novelty among him and the men at the farm, a joke used to call out braggarts or a test around the campfire as they all became increasingly intoxicated. Once Takeshi, and ultimately, Saki, had caught wind of it, they found a much darker use for his talent.

When he had been called to Tokyo City a couple of months prior, Raphael had been elated. He had thought that this was it, he was going home. The Shredder himself had greeted Raphael the day after his long journey and explained that they had someone detained for questioning. The small entourage of five Foot Soldiers that accompanied him was Raphael’s first disappointment. Rumor had it that Karai was never far from her father’s side, but she was no where to be found in the dank warehouse. The woman they questioned was innocent of any trespasses against the Foot, just caught up in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Raphael had been called in to oversee two more interrogations since then, and those few people _had_ been active members of plots to harm their clan. Master Shredder had ordered Raphael to execute them, and despite doing so as quickly and painlessly as possible, he had felt ashamed of killing an enemy that was bound and helpless. In those instances, Karai’s absence was a relief.

The damp rag was cold and limp in his hands and Raphael dropped it into a bowl of water alongside the soaking needles and pliers. The silence between them had probably stretched on too long while he’d been lost in his thoughts, but Ryuu was preoccupied as well.


	30. Poison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A routine supply run becomes a matter of life and death. Takes place about nine months after _Stitched_. Raphael is 14, but the men think he’s 19.

Mezu trotted briskly down the path leading from the village, pulling the rickety wagon full of supplies back towards the farmhouse in the bright May sunshine. Ichiro was driving while having a spirited talk with Raphael, whom he hadn’t seen in months. Ichiro only came by the farm now and then to teach, his specialties being the sai and unarmed combat. He was keen to demonstrate a new offensive technique he had mastered with his sai, and though they weren’t Raphael’s weapon of choice, he was always open to expanding his deadly repertoire.

Raphael himself hadn’t spent much time at the farm over the past few months. Most of the men now living at Takeshi’s were newer Elite recruits that didn’t know Raphael well, and frankly, didn’t want to. His reputation as Master Shredder’s Enforcer, rooting out liars and traitors among them, had done nothing to make him popular within the Clan he sought to protect. He had few friends, and while that suited his generally solitary nature, there was a certain relief in being able to have an open, casual conversation.

Ichiro gasped and jerked suddenly, inadvertently hauling on the left rein hard enough that Mezu tripped up into an awkward halt. The horse cried out shrilly in anger, head low and neck arched, his nose almost pointing back towards them.

The wooden wagon rocked violently as its momentum was suddenly lost, almost unseating Raphael. He felt a prickle at his nape and a nauseating panic gripped his stomach as he dislodged a small, metal dart from the delicate skin between his neck and shell. Heat bloomed from the resulting scratch, spreading like a stain down his back and wrapping itself around his throat. He ducked as movement caught his eye peripherally from the brush, struggling to hold Ichiro in place. The man’s body had stiffened alarmingly and Raphael was unable to pry the reins from his white-knuckled grip.

Mezu’s high-pitched keening increased as he tried to escape the unnatural position he was trapped in, spurring Raphael into fumbling for a small blade tucked into his wrist wrapping to cut the leather reins. He felt feverish and dizzy, his movements slow and clumsy no matter how he focused on the simple task. He managed to sever the left rein just as Mezu bucked and firmly kicked the wagon with both rear feet, and this time the jolt did send the turtle toppling forward, landing in the dirt dangerously close to the wagon’s front wheel and Mezu’s flying hooves.

Mezu looked about ready to bolt, only half hitched to the wagon and the wooden shaft on one side of him now cracked and jagged like a pike from one of his kicks. Forcing his body into action, Raphael crawled forward, using the knife to cut the fool horse free before he killed himself in his blind fit. His perception became disjointed as vertigo struck and his vision blurred while he cut the last strap. Raphael shook his head in slow motion and blinked, finding his eyelids were too heavy to lift again.

The heat that overcame him was like nothing he had ever experienced before. His muscles spasmed painfully before locking up in what felt like some horrid contortion, his hands grasping blindly and closing over fistfuls of leather and horsehair. He blacked out in a precarious sprawl over Mezu’s back, but the fire continued to course through his veins.

_Raphael saw himself caught in the middle of an inferno, unable to move or speak. Mezu had escorted him straight to Hell after all, like the demon of lore. Why else would being dead burn so badly? He tried to scream, but his agony found no voice in his mind._

“We need more wet towels!” a man’s voice hollered, entirely too close to Raphael’s ear. Someone else yelled in the background, making his temples throb. The heat was no better out of the fire until a cold, soggy towel blanketed him, offering a moment of relief. He tried to open his eyes to see who was still wailing nonsensically, then gave up and retreated back to the darkness when he realized it was him.

_Raphael watched murder and mayhem perpetrated by his own hands, the never-ending heat confusing him and blending memory with nightmare._

_In another vision, a rat and a viper were locked in battle, increasingly wounded and bloody, but somehow never ceasing. Never dying. Next to him an old lady watched the horror unfold as the two creatures undid one another completely. She cackled cruelly before turning to Raphael, lifting her palm to her face and blowing acrid smoke into his eyes._

He was screaming again, and men were yelling over the horrid sound of it. Raphael couldn’t open his eyes but heard a scuffle nearby.

Someone took a hit and cursed loudly. “How much longer are you going to let him suffer like that?” they demanded.

“Get out!” a familiar voice shouted.

“He’s going to die, anyways…”

_The gardens were in full bloom in the courtyard as Karai opened an engraved silver urn bearing Raphael’s name. He looked on in puzzlement as the wind kicked up and she released his ashes._

_“You promised you wouldn’t leave me,” Karai whispered._

_“I didn’t,” Raphael insisted, the sadness and disappointment on her features unbearable. He tried to run to her as she turned away, but no matter how hard he ran, he couldn’t get any closer._

_“No! Karai!” he yelled, his hand outstretched futilely as he fought against the tempest blowing him back with hurricane force. “I’m coming back for you.”_

_Karai’s figure continued to recede into the garden, unaffected by the preternatural storm Raphael battled._

Raphael could move just enough to know that he didn’t want to. Every muscle felt strained, his stomach was in knots, his mouth felt like cotton, and the tiniest bit of light made him regret cracking open his eyes. This sort of misery was reserved for the living, which was a small consolation, but the heat had finally abated and he no longer dreamed about the lake of fire.

“Take it easy, Raph.” The voice cut through the fugue.

“Karai?” he rasped.

“Not even close.”

Raphael squinted at his friend. “Ryuu.”

“You need to drink,” Ryuu said, helping him sit up.

Raphael was mortified with how weak he was, how heavy a simple glass of water felt in his unsteady hands.

Ryuu watched as Raphael raised the glass to his cracked lips and took slow sips. “You like shit, even for you,” he appraised.

“Fuck off,” Raphael croaked half-heartedly.

Ryuu considered telling the insolent turtle that he had screamed for almost two days straight while incapacitated by the poison. Or that Raphael was only alive because he had watched over him and physically defended him from the others, who, on two occasions, had demanded they put him out of everyone’s misery so they could sleep. Or that the main reason he had done so was because he knew Raphael was no older than Karai, knew him better than anyone else here, in fact, and considered him a friend.

“Welcome back,” he said instead.


	31. Red - Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raphael struggles to recover from the after-effects of the poison, both in body and mind. Takes place about three months after _Poison_. Raphael is 14, and Karai is 15.

It wasn’t the first time Raphael had considered destroying the mirror his large palm was flattened on, braced against the reflection of himself glaring back in disappointment. He panted and sweat trickled down the back of his neck; he wasn’t going to be able to push himself much more tonight. He gazed past himself in the floor to ceiling mirror in the small gym, admiring the chaos of weights and weapons he had left strewn in his wake. He frowned when his eyes refocused on his body. The muscle tone was back and his strength had almost returned, but Raphael didn’t see that. He was preoccupied by the gauntness in his face, the dark circles beneath his eyes and the persistently dull shade of green his skin had become. Reminders of the paralytic poison that should have killed him as it had Ichiro. Likely would have, too, had it been a clean hit, regardless of the fact that he was a mutant.

Raphael’s would-be assassin had followed Mezu to the farm. Likely that had been the plan all along, kill the two of them, cut the horse free and follow it home. The assassin hadn’t counted on Raphael surviving or Mezu being a nutcase. Surely he hadn’t counted on Jiro and Katsu tracking him in the nearby woods and losing his head before he could report back to whoever he was working for on the location of the Foot’s Elite training camp. It seemed the whole incident had been quite the learning curve for everyone involved.

Master Shredder and Takeshi had decided to stash Raphael at a safe house in a rural town east of Tokyo while he recovered. From the outside, it was a quaint, one storey stone cottage. The main floor décor was traditional and quite plain, with the basement dojo and weapons cache being the only tell that the house wasn’t what it appeared to be. Three months ago, when Raphael had first arrived here, he couldn’t walk on his own. Ryuu stayed to help him, but as Raphael regained his strength and temper, his friend had been spending more and more time in Tokyo, keeping tabs on the Yakuza family responsible for the war against the Foot.

Raphael closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against the cold glass, feeling one of his now-familiar migraines coming on. He was too tired to exert himself physically any more, but too restless and frustrated to go to bed. Physically he was healing, but his confidence had been shattered. No matter how much progress he watched his body make in that mirror, he still felt like a failure.

 _Knock, knock knock._ Pause. _Knock._

It was the pattern used before entering a safe house to avoid being accidentally attacked by the occupants. Fellow Foot. His part-time roommate must be home. Raphael groaned. As much as he liked Ryuu and appreciated what he had done for him, Raphael was in no mood for company tonight. Retreating to bed became much more of a temptation.

Trudging up the creaking wooden stairs, he started through the dark main level towards his room. “I’m calling it a night, I feel like shit,” he grumbled, hoping to avoid conversation.

“Raph.”

He froze mid-step. Inhaled her scent to make sure his ears hadn’t betrayed him. He fumbled back towards the light switch and flicked it on.

“Karai,” he breathed out in surprise, a smile spreading across his face. “What are you doing here?”

He drifted around the living room furniture towards her, as if drawn magnetically to her crooked grin and defiant eyes. It was surreal to see her finally, to talk to her after being apart for almost four years. As he wrapped his arms around her in a firm embrace, he was struck by how much his broad frame dwarfed her.

“No one knows I’m here besides Mai,” she confessed, returning the hug.

“Are you okay?” he asked, parting from her reluctantly. “I heard you were attacked a few weeks ago.”

“It was nothing,” she answered. She waved her hand as if brushing the memory aside, but Raphael couldn’t help but notice the way she averted her eyes when she added, “I took care of it.”

“So I’ve heard,” he replied, trying to keep his voice impassive. She had defeated two assassins in the past year and was earning a name for herself, but it drove him crazy knowing he could have been there to help her.

“How about you?” Karai inquired carefully, looking him over with concern.

“I’m fine,” he grunted, even though he knew she would see right through him. “I’m ready to fight. I want to come home.”

“When you are well, Father plans on bringing you home again. We need you close,” she said, “but now is not the time. As our Enforcer, we cannot let our enemies or the Clan perceive any vulnerability in you.”

He turned his head away to stare at the floor, pride stung.

“I’m not saying you are weak, Raph,” she sighed, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He flinched away stubbornly but she continued. “It’s unbelievable that you survived the poison. When you resurface stronger than ever, it will spread like wildfire. No one will want to cross you, and by extension, us.”

He fought the urge to yell back that anyone who crossed him in his current mood would end up extremely dead.

The warmth of her hand returned to his arm, but he allowed it this time. He had missed her.

“I was so scared that I would lose you without ever having the chance to say goodbye,” she said quietly. “That’s why I’m here. So we can say goodbye to someone we loved, before it’s too late.”

“Who?” Raphael asked.

“Takara. She’s very sick.”

“Oh.” The past hit him like a punch. “I can’t.”

“I drove an hour out of my way to get you and I only have until morning before Father and Kaito start looking for me at Mai’s place,” Karai said, crossing her arms irritably.

“She left us. Because of me,” he stated flatly, feeling the guilt and the hurt of it again.

“No, she didn’t. Father made her retire.” Karai zipped up her leather jacket and looked Raphael in the eye expectantly.

He let out a long breath and grabbed his cloak. So, Master Shredder had lied to them about Takara’s departure, no doubt as an exercise in avoiding emotional attachments. He understood the motivation, but the dishonesty of it, and the resulting blame he had internalized within himself because of it, made him absolutely seethe.

An unrelated tidbit Karai had dropped also grated on him, and he seized onto it to change the subject. “Why the hell would Kaito be trying to keep tabs on you with your dad?” he asked as he locked up the cottage.

Karai paused in front of her motorcycle. “Kaito and I are…together,” she replied.

“Together?” he repeated, unable to hide his distaste. “Aw, come on, of all people?” Raphael rolled his eyes but felt something in his chest tighten when Karai grinned. “Isn’t he a little old for you?” he grumbled, his already conflicted emotions spiking into something more complicated as he slid onto the back of her bike.

“He’s only three years older than me,” she scoffed, then put her helmet on and throttled the engine noisily.

It had been so long since he had even seen her, and suddenly she was all around him as they sped through the darkness. Her familiar scent, her hair tickling his face and neck, the excited catch in her breath when she took a turn a little too fast, her shifting to lean against him now and then; the same Karai he had always known but now didn’t know. Beneath his touch, her hard, lean body had acquired delicate curves that made him feel anxious and awkward, like there were no appropriate places to rest his hand when he needed to balance as they raced along.

He peeked at the time on his cell phone. At this pace, another hour or so to Tokyo.

It was going to be a long night…


	32. Red - Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of _Red: Part 1_ , and the _Promise AU_ series. Raphael is 14, and Karai is 15.

Even in the middle of the night, Tokyo was alive and thriving. City signs lit up the main drags and bar patios, which were occupied by night owls and party-goers who had missed the last train, whether intentionally or not. Even wrapped in his cloak, Raphael did not make a very low-profile passenger, and Karai stashed her bike so they could proceed on foot. Raphael followed her lithe form over shop rooftops and through alleys, easily avoiding detection in the shadows. She was confident in her route, he noticed. She had obviously cased Takara’s building beforehand.

They scaled the building deftly with climbing claws up to a sixth storey balcony. Again, there was no hesitation from Karai until she stood at the sliding glass door leading into the apartment. She stared at the slatted, bamboo blinds that hung on the interior. She had been this far before. Her hands trembled slightly as she picked the lock.

A lot had changed in the past six years. _They_ had changed a lot.

They entered the apartment silently. A lamp had been left on in the living room, casting a dim glow over the worn furniture. The living room ended where a floating counter top divided it from the kitchen. To the right, a door left ajar revealed a bathroom, and next to that was the bedroom door, which was shut.

“Maybe we should go in one at a time,” Karai whispered, not wanting to overwhelm her.

Raphael nodded, and motioned for her to go first.

She crossed the threshold tentatively and knocked on the bedroom door to announce herself before she went in, then closed it behind her.

He heard voices mumbling, the rustling of bedding and the click of a lamp, then a louder, happier exclamation from Takara. Some of the tension left Raphael’s body. She was pleased to see Karai, and awake enough to carry on a conversation. Trying not to eavesdrop on them, he distracted himself by doing a standard sweep of her diminutive apartment.

A check of the mail sitting on her counter revealed that none of her bills were overdue. She had either been very wise with her money or Saki was still providing a monthly stipend to her. Takara didn’t live in luxury, but he was relieved to know that she had also not been struggling financially since her retirement. The scent of two other women permeated the entire place; her daughters, no doubt. More importantly, judging from the cleanliness of her home and the fresh food in her fridge, Takara was being well cared for.

In one corner of the living room, a short, rounded table draped in red linen served as a memorial to Takara’s late husband. Ono Isao had been a legendary swordsman and a prominent figure within the Foot. His katana rested lengthwise upon a stand as the centerpiece of the shrine, surrounded by unlit candles, framed photographs and trophies from prestigious kendo tournaments. Raphael’s heart beat a little heavier as looked from one photo to the next. The largest one was a close up of the couple on their wedding day, their faces full of hope and bright with youth. A few others showed Isao with their daughters at varying ages in their childhoods, and the last was of him standing outside a dojo with a teenage boy.

A wife. A family. Awards from national competitions. Raphael began to turn away, bitter that he would never have any of those things in his own life, but something about the teenager in the last picture drew his eye once more.

It was Oroku Saki in a white gi, his face unmarred by scars. He must have trained under Isao even before the Foot had reformed. An old-fashioned dojo stood in the background, and a banner hung on the wall behind them, only half-revealed by the photo.

Raphael squinted. A flower? The crest looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t quite place it. His temples throbbed, reminding him of the impending migraine from earlier as he tried recall where he had seen the symbol before.

Karai leaving the bedroom and reentering the main area made Raphael jump.

She didn’t notice; tears had started to well in her eyes the second she’d turned away from Takara, and were now spilling down over her cheeks. She nodded in the direction of the open door, not trusting her voice.

Raphael closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, soothing back the aching fog that was trying to take over his mind. He took a deep breath and prepared himself, then entered Takara’s bedroom and pushed the door shut.

Her illness had not been kind to her. Propped up in bed with three pillows, she appeared alarmingly frail. Even her legs, which were hidden beneath a sheet, were obviously as stick-thin as the rest of her. Her long hair, now thinning and completely gray, stuck out in wisps all about her.

Her smile, however, lit up her weathered face all the same. “Raphael-kun, how you’ve grown!” Takara exclaimed in a shaky rasp.

“Hello, Takara-san,” he greeted gently, bowing his head.

She reached out for his hand, squeezing one of his fingers weakly; the digit itself was thicker than her arm. Carefully, feeling like some hulking monster at her bedside, he closed his thumb over her hand. Hyper-aware of the damage that very hand had caused in the past, he kept his grasp brief and feather-light, terrified of breaking the brittle bones beneath her paper-thin skin.

The memory of this feisty, four foot eleven woman stopping him in his tracks with a mere look made him laugh internally. It came out as a stifled chuckle that threatened to choke him up, but he managed a true smile for her.

“Karai told me you blamed yourself all of these years for my absence,” she said sadly.

“I thought you were afraid of me,” he admitted, unable to meet to her gaze.

“Raphael,” she scolded, “I’ve never been afraid of you. Once my guardianship was deemed unnecessary, I was not permitted to contact either of you. It was not my choice. I missed both of you very much.”

Raphael stayed silent, at a loss for words as the guilt of driving Takara out of Karai’s life unwound itself within him. He wished he could have been more prepared for this conversation, and that he could find a way to express how he felt to a dying woman who had been so kind to him. He was not good with emotions and tonight had been a veritable roller coaster so far.

“You are troubled,” she noted. “You do not look well.”

“I’m not,” he said simply, becoming self-conscious of his pallor.

Takara was silent for a few moments, then seemed to change the subject as if he had said nothing. “Go into the last drawer of that dresser,” she instructed, pointing. “I have something for you.”

Nestled into one half of the drawer that he opened was his old red cloak that she had for made him, the first real gift he had ever received. He pulled it out and smiled as he held it up to his plastron. It barely covered half of it.

“How did you get this?” he asked.

“I was not able to make contact, but nothing stopped Yumi from giving me the odd update. She brought it to me after you were sent to the mountains to train, some housekeeper was going to throw it away.”

“Of course. Yumi.” He shook his head. So that was how Karai had gotten her intel. Yumi still worked for the Foot now and then as an English tutor and translator.

“You’re almost all grown up now,” Takara said affectionately. “You are starting to see the world for what it is, and as cruel as it can sometimes be, it can also be beautiful. Likewise, you are also discovering who _you_ are, instead of who you’ve been told to be. The path that has been chosen for you is a dark one. Staying true to yourself might feel impossible between your obligations and your circumstances, but it is the only way you will find harmony within.”

She started coughing, hard enough that it seemed her fragile frame should rattle apart. "I'm tired, Raphael," she sighed once she had resettled herself and regained her breath. "I need to rest. I know this is difficult for you, but it has made me so happy to see you again."

"We should be on our way," Raphael agreed. He balled up the red cloak and tucked it under his arm. "Thank you," he said, "for being one of the only beautiful things in my world."

Tears shone in her eyes but her smile broadened. "Please take care of yourself, Raphael-san."

He nodded solemnly. "Goodbye, Uba," he said softly before turning away.

**ooooooooooo**

**Four months later**

"Ready to go drive out some mobster scum from the East Docks?" Ryuu asked under his breath with a grin.

Raphael crouched next to him in the darkness on a warehouse rooftop. His black cloak billowed out behind him, picked up by the cool ocean breeze. His katana was secure within the scabbard strapped to his shell, freshly polished and sharpened. He removed the pair of sai from his belt that he had inherited from Ichiro and twirled them experimentally. Katsu had modified them perfectly for his hands. He tugged his hood up, partially covering the red mask he had made from the fabric of his childhood cloak.

If this, his first mission since recovering from the poison, went well, he was going home.

His smile spread darkly between the down-turned points of his mask.

"I'm ready."


End file.
